#i tried posting this before and even wrote an entire summary for it but tumblr ate it so ????? shdjfkkf

[genshinluvr]

Burning Desire 3 [Tighnari's Route]

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader, Tighnari x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: After Scaramouche leaves your room, Tighnari offers to take care of you while you try to recover from your previous session with Scaramouche. While waiting for Tighnari to run you a bath, the burning pit in your stomach persists, leading to you attempting to relieve yourself from the desire. The aphrodisiac continues running in your system, making it nearly impossible to control yourself.

Note: Not gonna lie. I struggled with this smut because it's been a while since I've posted smut 🥲 Don't expect any of my smuts to be good because I've always been iffy about the smuts I wrote 💀 Anyway! Keep in mind that the Burning Desire routes are mostly/pure smut. It will be shorter compared to Crave because Crave has its own plot, whereas Burning Desire has routes where readers make the decision on who's route is next. This applies to all characters, not specific characters. As previously stated in my previous smut-fics, I tried to keep the story as gender-neutral as possible. All of my smuts do lean towards female!reader/AFAB!reader with gender-neutral pronouns. As usual, minors DO NOT INTERACT! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Horribly written smut, aphrodisiac, fingering, cervix fucking, oral [both receiving], mating press, hair pulling, biting, orgasm denial, creampie, another failed attempt of dom!reader, Tighnari is a bottom on the first part

Word Count: 5.9k

Burning Desire "chapters"/routes: [1], [2], [3], [4]

Tighnari peeks his head into your bedroom, his ears twitching. You smile at Tighnari and gesture for him to enter your room while pulling your blanket over your body. You’re exhausted, but you’re sure it’s not from your previous activities with Scaramouche. The ache between your legs is still there, and your body is hot as ever but not as hot as it was before you were able to get your release. 

“If you don’t mind, do you want me to do a brief checkup on you?” Tighnari asks, walking into your room.

You gulp and nod. A checkup is harmless! It’s not like you’ll be jumping Tighnari’s bones and start humping him like your uncle’s horny dog back in your world. Well, you’re hoping that it doesn’t happen. The strange feeling in the pit of your stomach is still present, and even if Scaramouche fucked your brains out, you think you can go for a couple more rounds. 

Tighnari walks to your bed, standing before you. Tighnari takes his gloves off, putting them on your nightstand beside your bed. He places his hand on your face, pressing the back of his hand on your forehead. The warmth of Tighnari’s hands is a huge contrast to the temperature of your body.

“You’re still overheating. Although your temperature is slightly better than what it was before,” Tighnari murmurs, pushing your hair away from your sweaty forehead.

Tighnari slowly removes his hands from your face, but you frantically grab Tighnari’s hands, keeping them on your face. His hands are surprisingly cool compared to your entire body. You feel like you were standing in the deserts of Sumeru for hours with no shade to shield you from the heat. Archons, you’re hot and suffering.

“How about I run you a cold bath, and you can soak in the bath to lower your body temperature? How does that sound to you?” Tighnari offers, running his fingers through your hair.

You whimper, pressing your face against Tighnari’s chest, trying your best to restrain yourself. “That sounds nice, Tighnari. It would mean a lot to me if you did that,” you reply.

Tighnari pulls away from you, only for you to reach out for him but quickly puts your hand on the mattress below you. Tighnari raises his eyebrows at you, staring at your face intently. Your pupils are dilated, your chest is heaving with every deep breath you’re taking, a thin layer of sweat is covering your naked body, and your mouth is agape.

“I can sense a ‘but’ after that response of yours….” Tighnari trails off, propping his hands on his hips. “What would you rather have me do other than draw you a cold bath?”

You gulp, looking away from Tighnari. You can’t tell if your face is heating up because of embarrassment or if it’s because you didn’t want to admit how much you desire Tighnari to bury his cock deep inside your sopping wet hole. Tighnari doesn’t want to tell you this, but he can smell how wet you are. 

“Please draw me a bath. I don’t know how much longer I can take the heat,” you reply. 

Tighnari smiles and squeezes your bare shoulders before walking to your bathroom to draw you a cold bath to soak in. After Tighnari went to your bathroom, you collapsed on your bed, hands itching to slither down to soothe the ache between your legs. Your core is throbbing, and you really want to relieve it. 

Looking over your shoulders toward the bathroom, you slide your dominant hand to your sopping-wet groin. You shudder when your fingers make contact with your hot core. You gulp and slowly penetrate your throbbing entrance with your middle and ring fingers, biting down on your tongue to muffle your groans. 

“What are you doing?” 

Your head jerks up to see Tighnari peering down at you. How in the world did he get on your bed without making any noise? You slowly pull your fingers out from your quivering hole. Thank Archons, you have a blanket over your naked body, or else Tighnari would see what you’re doing. Man, this is such an awkward position to be put in.

You give Tighnari a sheepish smile. “Did you start the bath?” You squeak, trying to change the subject and divert his attention elsewhere. 

Tighnari raises his eyebrows at you before nodding slowly. “Yes, I drew a bath for you. I made sure it’s cold enough to cool your temperature down but not too cold to the point where you refuse to get in,” Tighnari replies. Tighnari turns around, motioning for you to follow after him. “Now come, or else the bath will become warm.”

Tighnari walks into the bathroom, leaving you behind on your bed.

“I wish I could cum again.” 

You sigh, sitting up and getting off your bed. You wrap your throw blanket over your naked body, waddling to the bathroom where Tighnari is waiting for you. Tighnari dips his fingers into the water, testing the temperature. You stare at Tighnari’s fingers in a daze. If only his fingers were inside of you instead— you shake your head and lightly smack your forehead. 

Tighnari snaps his fingers, pulling you out of your thoughts. You give Tighnari a weak smile when he points at the bathtub. You gesture for Tighnari to turn around so you can drop the blanket and get into the bathtub without feeling self-conscious while he looks at you. 

Tighnari sighs, turns around, and closes his eyes. You slowly remove the blanket off your body and place it on the sink before dipping your toe into the bathtub. Goosebumps immediately rise on your body as you slowly get into the bathtub. You shudder, sitting down and sinking neck-deep into the tub.

“Alright, you can, uh, look now,” you say, covering your chest with your hands while pressing your legs against your chest.

Tighnari turns around and kneels beside the bathtub, pressing his hand against your face again. You clear your throat, beginning to shake your legs in the bathtub. You don’t know how much longer you’ll last. You’re in desperate need of release. Scaramouche was able to relieve you a tiny bit, but the burning pit in your stomach remains raging. 

Tighnari pulls away and rests his elbows on the edge of the bathtub, examining you closely. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look shaken up,” Tighnari murmurs, resting his chin on his arms.

You jokingly say, “Maybe it’s the Scaramouche effect. After all, Scaramoouche did fuck my brains out.”

Tighnari snorts, shaking his head. You and Tighnari sit in silence while you sit in the cold water. Your body temperature doesn’t feel like it’s going to go down any time soon. Your core continues to throb painfully in the cold water. You’re itching to find release, but alas, you’re not sure if Tighnari would be okay with helping you with your issue. 

You unknowingly let out a huff of breath, resting your chin on your knees. “Tighnari?” You whisper.

Tighnari tilts his head to the side, looking at you curiously. “Yes, [Y/N]?” 

You close your eyes, hugging your legs to your chest. “Do you know how much longer I’ll feel this way?”

“What do you mean? Can you clarify?” Tighnari asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

Archons, this is where you didn’t want the conversation to go— you having to explain to Tighnari about your desperation for release. It’s been a few days since you have inhaled the aphrodisiac that exploded all over your face, causing you to inhale large amounts of the powder. You want it to be over already because the constant horniness is driving you up the walls.

You let out a shaky sigh. “Since I breathed in the aphrodisiac, do you know how long it’ll be in my system? Despite Scaramouche’s help, it’s still affecting me but not nearly as bad as it was before,” you reply.

Tighnari hums, leaning away from the tub while stroking his chin with his thumb and index finger. “Unfortunately, I don’t know how long it’ll be in your system. You did breathe in a lot of that powder, and the best thing we can do is either assist you with your situation or we wait it out,” replies Tighnari.

You whimper pathetically, wanting to drown yourself in the bathtub water. There’s no way you can wait it out, even if it’s suggested. Well, it was recommended, but you don’t think you can last any longer if you wait it out. The aching between your legs, the wetness trailing down your legs, your bundle of nerves swollen with need, and the fire in the pit of your stomach is hard to ignore.

“I don’t think I can wait it out, Tighnari,” you whimper, “like you said, I breathed in a lot of the aphrodisiac, and we don’t know how long it’ll be in my system.” 

Tighnari stares at you; his gaze darkens. “And what do you want to do? Again, it is up to you to decide whether you want someone to assist you with your situation or to wait it out,” Tighnari says.

Your bottom lip quivers. Is Tighnari trying to make you say it out loud? It’s humiliating to have to voice out your burning desire to have someone fuck your brains out until it's mush. You bite on your tongue and close your eyes, burying your face into your knees. Tighnari reaches forward and grabs you by your chin, and turns your head to make eye contact with him.

“What is it that you want?” Tighnari demands.

You swallow the forming lump in your throat. “I want you, or someone, to please help me with my problem. Please, Tighnari,” you plead.

The words tumbling out of your mouth didn’t make sense to you, but you hope you’re able to get the message across. Tighnari smiles and releases your chin before standing up. Tighnari walks over to where your towel hangs, grabs it, and walks to the tub. You hesitantly drain the bathtub and stand up. You take the towel from Tighnari’s hands and wrap it around your naked body, stepping out of the bathtub like a newborn fawn. 

Tighnari grabs your bicep, steadying you. You smile at Tighnari sheepishly before walking back into your room with Tighnari beside you. Tighnari lightly pushes you onto your bed, unraveling the towel from your bare body. Tighnari scans your naked body, his pupils wide. You gulp and grip the towel tightly. 

You pout and tug at Tighnari’s clothes. “It’s not fair for me to be the only one naked in this situation,” you murmur.

Tighnari’s lips twitch with amusement. “Well, I need to make sure your body is functioning fine, right? There are a few checkups I still need to do, remember?” Tighnari asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“But Tighnari—”

Tighnari presses his index finger against your lips, shushing you. “Once I get your checkup done, I’ll strip, alright?” Tighnari reassures you.

You nod and lay back, gulping nervously. Tighnari hums with satisfaction before pulling you to the edge of the bed and kicking your legs apart. Tighnari places both your legs on the bed, stretching them out for him to see your dripping entrance. 

Wordlessly, Tighnari kneels before your wet hole, reaching forward and swiping his fingers up your entrance. You jolt at the feeling of his fingers pressing and swiping at your hole. Tighnari chuckles under his breath before inspecting the clear substance on the tip of his index and middle finger. 

“It’s interesting how the aphrodisiac is causing you to produce way more lubricant than an average person,” Tighnari murmurs.

You shut your eyes and look away, heat rushing to your face. How can Tighnari talk about this stuff so casually without feeling embarrassed about it? Maybe you feel this way because you’re the one that’s naked, and Tighnari is only a few inches from your aching heat. Tighnari brushes his thumb against your swollen bundle of nerves, causing you to whimper and tense under his hands.

Tighnari hums. “You’re also extra sensitive as well,” Tighnari says.

You press your lips into a thin line and squeeze your eyes shut tightly. You don’t know how much longer you can wait until Tighnari is finished with your checkup. Every reaction you have is from the aphrodisiac. You’re producing way more lubricant, and you’re very sensitive to the littlest touch. 

You grab Tighnari’s hand and pull him. Tighnari stumbles and cages you between your bed and his body. You lace your fingers in Tighnari’s hair and press your lips against his, wrapping your legs around his waist. Tighnari pulls away from the kiss, taking a step back while taking his clothes off. You sit up and begin helping Tighnari with taking off his clothes and accessories. 

Your hands are trembling, fumbling with the buttons and zippers on his clothes.

You and Tighnari could take it slow, but the longer you’re forced to wait it out and be patient, the more the ache between your legs continues to grow. Tighnari’s clothes have a lot of intricate details and accessories, making them a little bit complicated to take off compared to Scaramouche’s clothes.

Tighnari can sense your frustration as you struggle to take a piece of clothing off his body. “A little impatient, are we?” Tighnari chuckles.

You grumble and yank the final piece of clothing off his body. Now standing naked before you, Tighnari pushes you onto your back and kneels in front of you. Tighnari grabs your legs and spreads them apart. You know that Tighnari wants to prepare you for what’s going to happen, but since you’re already so wet and are dripping onto your bedsheets, there was no need for him to bury his face into your damp entrance.

Tighnari tilts your head up, stroking your cheek. “I’m going to penetrate you now, alright?” Tighnari asks.

Despite the fiery pit of need you’re feeling in your gut, you can’t help but do a double take when Tighnari says that. Who says that before having sex with someone? You snort, making Tighnari looks at you with confusion. You grab Tighnari by his forearms and pull him to lie down beside you. 

You hover above Tighnari, staring down at the confused forest ranger. You wrap your fingers around Tighnari’s erect cock, giving Tighnari’s cock slow strokes. Tighnari tenses and lets out a breathy moan, crumbling beneath your hands. You can’t tell if Tighnari’s a virgin or if he’s a bottom. The way he reacted when you wrapped your fingers around his pulsing cock, his reaction to you stroking his dick at a slow pace, made you assume he was either two. But hey, there’s no shame in being a bottom or a virgin. It’s almost cute, and it makes you want to fuck his brains out until he cries. 

You continue to stroke his cock, pre-cum beading at the slit of his dick. You lean down and take him into your mouth. Tighnari moans, running his fingers through your hair before gripping at the roots tightly. You bobbed your head, stroking the base of Tighnari’s cock and massaging his balls. 

The sound of Tighnari’s moans, whimpers, and the sound of you sucking on his cock fills the room. You lightly squeezed his cock before releasing his dick from your mouth with an audible pop. You continue to stroke Tighnari’s cock, leaning down to lick and suck on his balls. Tighnari hisses and clenches his jaws, his body arching and his toes curling. 

“Aren’t we supposed to be focusing on you?” Tighnari whimpers, biting on his bottom lip as he looks down at you.

You stop what you’re doing and release his now red cock. You chuckle and wipe the string of saliva from your mouth with the back of your hand. “Oh? Are you not enjoying the blowjob?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

Tighnari’s face is flushed, his ears are pulled back, and his chest is heaving up and down with the deep breaths he’s taking. Tighnari doesn’t respond. He only gives you a pleading look. You crawl forward and press a kiss on Tighnari’s forehead. 

“We’ll focus on my needs after I give you your first orgasm,” you reply nonchalantly. 

Tighnari groans and looks away, his face almost as red as Diluc’s hair. You grab Tighnari’s aching dick before taking him in all the way until the mushroom tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying not to gag. Feeling the walls of your throat tightening around his cock, Tighnari lets out a loud groan as he feels his impending release. 

You continue to stroke the base of his cock, and massage his balls while deep-throating him.

Tighnari grabs the bedsheets so tightly that his knuckles turn white. Tighnari grabs your hair with the other hand and forces you to take his throbbing cock. It happened so suddenly that none of you—especially Tighnari— expected it. Tighnari whimpers and cums into your mouth, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he becomes limp.

You pull Tighnari’s cock out from your mouth with a pop, swallowing his cum and wiping your mouth. You shuddered as you swallowed the salty fluid, face pinching with distaste. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the feeling of consuming someone’s bodily fluids. Tighnari looks at you with bleary eyes, his cheeks flushed.

You brush his hair away from his face, smiling at him while ignoring your dripping hole and the growing fire in the pit of your stomach. Tighnari caresses your cheek, giving you a breathless smile. You lean down and kiss his forehead.

You pull away and sit in front of him. “How are you feeling?” You murmur.

Tighnari stares at you, still dazed from his release. Tighnari props himself up. “I feel great, but….” Tighnari trails off. “We were supposed to focus on you.”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t mind taking charge. Plus, you don’t look like the type to be dominant in bed,” you tease, poking Tighnari’s bare chest with a teasing smile.

Tighnari huffs and glares at you, his cheeks turning a darker shade of pink. He reaches for your wrist and pulls you toward him. You cage Tighnari against your bed, pushing him down with one hand before straddling his hips. Tighnari stares up at you while you kneel, reaching for his cock behind you. You give his cock a few strokes, feeling his dick slowly harden in your grasp. Tighnari bites on his bottom lip as he watches you pump his now erect cock. You arch your back, lean on one leg and rub the tip of Tighnari’s cock against your damp folds. You and Tighnari shudder at the feeling.

You line Tighnari’s cock at your entrance before slowly sinking down. Tighnari groans, placing his hands on your hips and guiding you down on his pulsing dick. Tighnari gasps and moans when his cock is engulfed by the walls of your entrance. You dig your nails into Tighnari’s shoulders, whimpering at the stretch.

Not long later, Tighnari’s balls deep inside your cavern. You shiver and bury your face into Tighnari’s neck. Your heat clenches and unclenches around Tighnari’s thick, hot, pulsing cock. Tighnari’s hands slide down to the globes of your ass and squeeze your ass cheeks, digging his nails into your ass. 

You remain sitting on his lap with his cock buried deep inside your entrance, trying to adjust to a new stretch. You have Tighnari lay on his back while you remain seated. Tighnari keeps his hands on your ass, occasionally moaning and panting as your walls squeeze around his pulsing member.

Tighnari taps on your ass to grab your attention. “Move, please,” Tighnari grunts, lightly thrusting upward and letting out a choked moan when the tip of his cock brushes against your cervix.

You involuntarily clench around Tighnari’s dick. You lean back, arch your back, place your hands on Tighnari’s thighs, and begin sliding up and down his cock. Tighnari digs his nails into your thighs before sliding his hands to your hips, guiding you up and down his throbbing cock. 

You push yourself upward while continuing to bounce on his cock. You lean forward before placing your hands on his lower abdomen.

You roll and grind your loins against Tighnari’s pubic bone, feeling pleasure pulse through your body when your swollen bundle of nerves rubs up against Tighnari’s pubic bone. You jolt and tense, letting out a shaky sigh. Tighnari reaches up with one hand, groping at your chest, pinching and squeezing your nipples with his thumb and index finger.

You grab Tighnari’s other hand at your waist, lacing your fingers with his. Tighnari shifts from underneath you and wraps his arms around your waist before flipping you over on your back. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to adjust to what happened. Tighnari looms over you, caging you with his arms while panting above you.

Tighnari grabs your chin and tilts your head up before crashing his lips against yours. You wrap your arms around his shoulders while Tighnari has you wrap your legs around his slim waist while he’s rutting against your entrance. You and Tighnari moan into each other’s lips, rubbing your tongues against each other and holding onto each other like your life depended on it.

“You drive me crazy,” Tighnari murmurs against your lips.

He pulls away from the kiss and presses his face against the base of your neck. You tighten your legs around his waist, making sure not to hurt his tail by accident. You subconsciously reach up and run your fingers through Tighnari’s soft hair, brushing your fingers against his ears. Tighnari whimpers and nuzzles his face further into your neck, lightly nibbling on your neck. You lightly pull on his hair, making Tighnari moan and thrust hard into your hot entrance.

Tighnari reaches down between your legs, lightly rubbing and pinching your engorged nerves. You jolt and clench your jaws, digging your nails into Tighnari’s back. Tighnari releases your swollen, pinched bundle of nerves before grabbing onto the headboard of your bed. He presses a brief kiss on the side of your head before slowly thrusting in and out of your entrance. You grab onto the bedsheets below you, rolling your hips against his, meeting his thrust halfway. 

The bulbous tip of Tighnari’s cock kisses your cervix with each thrust, making your toes curl and your back arch with pleasure. You bite on your bottom lip to muffle your whimpers and moans, but Tighnari doesn’t seem to like that you’re holding back the sweet noises he’s coaxing out of you by thrusting in and out of your entrance. 

Tighnari starts to quicken his pace, the headboard of your bed thumping against the wall behind you. Tighnari presses his hips against yours, making sure to press the tip of his cock against your cervix until you wail from either pain or pleasure. Both are good. It lets him know that you’re reacting well to his actions and that you’re not unresponsive to his actions. Tighnari’s curious about how sensitive the aphrodisiac made you. 

“Tighnari, faster!” You whine, tugging on his arm to get his attention.

Tighnari takes a deep breath and unwraps one of your legs around his waist before placing them over his shoulders. Tighnari lays on top of you with his arms propping him up beside your head on the pillow and pistons his member into you repeatedly. While ramming his cock in and out of your entrance, Tighnari grabs you by your hair, tilts your head to the side as he leans down, and bites your neck hard enough to draw blood.

You let out a loud yelp, writhing beneath him. Tighnari moans as he licks and sucks on the area where he bit you, tasting your blood on his tongue. Tighnari laps at the bite mark, his hips stuttering against yours. Tighnari has knowingly marked you as his, and knowing how the others are going to react, gives him a sense of thrill. Adrenaline rushes through his veins, his lips trailing down to your collarbone while battering your cervix with the tip of his cock. You lift a shaky hand to the spot where Tighnari bit you, and you can feel the teeth marks and cut skin underneath your fingertips.

Tighnari latches his lips onto your collarbone and sucks on your collarbone. You tighten one leg around Tighnari’s waist and grind your hips against yours, trying to find a sense of relief as you feel a familiar knot beginning to form in your lower abdomen. At the same time, Tighnari continues to rail his cock deep inside of you. Archons, you can feel your impending orgasm, but it feels so far away. You wanted to cry out of frustration as you reached for the engorged nerves, pinching, rolling, and rubbing them with your thumb and index finger. 

Tighnari grunts, feeling your walls tighten and pulse around his cock. Tighnari can feel his orgasm slowly start to build up as he continues to plunge his member in and out of your squelching wet hole. You can feel the tight rope in your lower abdomen start to tighten up as you’re nearing your orgasm. Tighnari suddenly pulls out of you, making you whine and protest the sudden emptiness.

“Why did you pull out, Tighnari!? I was so close!” You whine.

Tighnari doesn’t answer you. Instead, he grabs both of your legs, presses them against your chest until you can barely move, and spits on your sopping wet, throbbing entrance. Tighnari covers your loins with his mouth and begins eating you out. His tongue swirls on your engorged nerve, swiping his tongue over your slit and burying his face between your legs.

You tangle your fingers in Tighnari’s luscious hair, grinding your entrance against Tighnari’s face as he continuously licks, slurps, and plunges his tongue in and out of your entrance. Tighnari’s canines scrape against your swollen bundles of nerves, causing you to jerk beneath him and whimper. Your legs are burning from being pressed against your chest for a long time and shaking from pleasure. Noticing your reaction to Tighnari’s canines scraping your engorged bundle of nerves, Tighnari latches his lips against the small ball and sucks on it. You’re writhing, arching your back, tugging on Tighnari’s hair, and your toes are curling so tightly that it’s starting to hurt. 

While you’re distracted, Tighnari inserts his middle and ring finger into your sopping, wet hole. You tensed up and groaned, whimpering as the man started pumping his fingers at a fast pace. Tighnari feels your walls tighten around his fingers, thus prompting him to pick up the pace, and before Tighnari knows it, you squeeze around his fingers. Tighnari pulls his fingers out from your heat, only for you to cry out with frustration due to Tighnari denying you of your orgasm for the second time. 

“Dammit, Tighnari! Why can’t you just let me cum!” You whine, throwing your head back with frustration.

Tighnari climbs back up and crashes his lips against yours, tangling his fingers in your hair while lining the tip of his cock to your entrance. He grabs one of your legs and places them over your shoulders before slamming his cock into your heat. You bite down on Tighnari’s bottom lip at the sudden intrusion, tensing beneath him and choking out a moan.

Tighnari pulls from the kiss and adjusts his position before grabbing your waist. Tighnari starts pistoning his throbbing cock into your pulsing entrance. Every time Tighnari enters your dripping entrance, you tighten around him. Tighnari makes sure to grind his pubic bone against your throbbing, engorged bundle of nerves.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you reach down to rub the small ball of nerves while Tighnari hammers his dick into your squelching entrance repeatedly. Tighnari digs his nails into your waist, slamming the bulbous tip of his cock into you so hard that it punches your cervix each time he thrusts. The more Tighnari continues to plunge his dick in and out of your sopping, squelching entrance and grinds his pubic bone against your swollen bundle of nerves. With you stimulating the small nerve, the tight rope in your lower abdomen tightens and tightens until your vision goes white.

You cum around Tighnari’s cock, becoming limp on your bed. At the same time, Tighnari shoots ropes of hot cum deep inside your abused hole, painting the walls of your entrance milky white. Tighnari groans and collapses on top of you, his face burying into your neck as he continues to fill your insides with his cum. After a few minutes, Tighnari pulls his now soft cock out of your entrance.

You wince at the emptiness, visibly shuddering when the mix of your and Tighnari’s cum spill out of your cavern. Tighnari collapses beside you, wrapping his arms around your waist while trying to catch his breath. Once your vision comes back, you rub your eyes as you feel the exhaustion start to catch up to you. Maybe it’s best for you to take a break from finding relief. The fiery pit in your stomach continues to rage on, and your loins continue to ache with need. 

You hear a light knock coming from your bedroom door. You and Tighnari look at one another. Archons, both of you are a little worn out from your sextivities, and having to get up from the bed and answer the door feels like a chore.

“Give us a moment!” Tighnari calls out, getting up from your bed and putting his clothes on. Tighnari turns to you. “Do you want to clean up? You can stay in bed if that’s what you would prefer.” 

You blink at Tighnari with bleary eyes, slowly sitting up and rubbing your eyes with the heel of your hand. Do you want to get up right now? You’re tired and sore, and constantly rubbing, pinching, and twisting your swollen bundle of nerves made you feel extra sensitive than you already are. 

You clear your throat, running your hands through your messy hair. “Yeah, I’m going to clean up again, and you can let whoever’s at the door into the room while I clean up,” you reply.

You get off your bed with shaky legs, shivering when you feel your and Tighnari’s mixed cum spilling and running down the insides of your legs and to the ground. You made a mental note to yourself to clean the bedsheets on the floor once you’re done cleaning up.

You grab a change of clean clothes and underwear, then go to the bathroom to take a shower. Before you step into the shower, you use the toilet and wipe yourself down. You turn the shower on and begin taking a shower, making sure to scrub every part of your body with body wash. You did feel some kind of relief from your intense need. Still, despite Scaramouche and Tighnari helping you reach your orgasm, the same feeling in your gut remains. 

“How much of that aphrodisiac did I inhale?”

You shake your head and wash away the suds and bubbles on your body before lathering your hair in shampoo and conditioner. Whatever the amount it was, you want it to go away already. You don’t know how much more you can take and how much more your poor genitals can handle being railed over and over by all types of cocks from your lovers. But what you do know is that you need a break from being fucked repeatedly because you’re starting to get hungry, and you need to rest.

After fifteen minutes of taking a shower, you wrap yourself in a towel and stand in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection. You look tired, and you’re not sure if it’s from Scaramouche and Tighnari or if the aphrodisiac is starting to physically affect you. You quickly got dressed into your underwear and clothes, wrapping the towel around your head before walking out of your bathroom with a pack of wet wipes in your hands.

Tighnari looks up and waves to you with the bedsheets in your hands. “How are you feeling?”

You squat down to where the bodily fluids are and begin wiping them with the wet wipes. “I’m feeling okay. I do feel tired and a little bit hungry,” you murmur, tossing the wet wipes into the trash can and placing the wet wipes on your desk.

Tighnari goes to the door and unlocks it. The door opens, and enters Thoma, holding a tray of food in his hands. 

“Hey! I figured you might be hungry from your… activities. So, I made food for you to eat,” Thoma says, putting the food tray on your desk. 

You smile at Thoma. “Thank you, Thoma. I really appreciate it. I’m starting to get hungry, so you brought food at a perfect time,” you reply, walking to the window and opening them to let fresh cool air into your bedroom. 

You sit on your bare mattress and begin eating the food Thoma made for you while the others start piling into your room one by one. It’s a good thing your bedroom isn’t a mess and that the sheets are getting cleaned. It would be awkward if the men sat on the soiled bedsheets. 

Baizhu approaches you with Dottore and Albedo at his side. “How are you feeling?” Baizhu asks.

You sigh and lightly stab the fried fowl with your fork before dipping it into the sauce. “I feel fine, for now. I notice that even after I had an orgasm, the fiery pit in my stomach will return not long after,” you reply.

Dottore props one hand on his hips while stroking his chin with the other. “That’s strange. It doesn’t seem like the aphrodisiac will be leaving your system any time soon, unfortunately,” Dottore sighs, turning to look at the others with a frown.

“I think you should take a break from this for today. I understand you’re in desperate need to get the aphrodisiac out of your system, but you do need to rest. You can’t continue this until it goes away. You’ll overexert yourself,” Albedo says, tapping his foot on the ground. 

You nod. Albedo’s not wrong. You do need a break, and while sex lasts only a few minutes, sex requires a lot of energy. You don’t think you can handle having another person dick you down while you feel like a limp noodle. Although, it does sound nice— getting dicked down. But you don’t feel sexy right now. You feel like you woke up from your grave not long ago.

“Alright. I’ll take a break for today, and whoever wants to be the next person to dick me down until my insides are molded to—” Dainsleif covers your mouth with his hands.

Dainsleif sighs, his cheeks bright red. “Please, just finish your food and get some rest,” Dainsleif pleads. 

You blink and Dainsleif and nod. Dainsleif removes his hands from your mouth and lets you proceed to eat your food. You wonder who’s going to be the next person to try to fuck the aphrodisiac out of your system.

Note: Ready to decide on who's route is next? Remember, the next route is in the reader's hands, not mine. I just write the story. If I could decide, Zhongli would've been the first route. Anyway, the characters that have their routes already will not appear in the next voting phases. Vote for the third route/fourth "chapter" [HERE]! I'm hoping to be able to make a new navigation post (or edit the one pinned to my blog) and make a new request form since the one linked will not count. So if anyone sends any type of request in, it's voided. Anyway, to my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for Burning Desire: @ins4nebish, @skyyyyackerman, @w1s-t3r1a, @urlocalheizousimp, @crinklypink, @downbadforurmom, @jadedist, @kaoyamamegami, @vynniis, @4-34-am, @iamcherryblossomsbitch, @starrry-angel, @worldhardtibbysoft, @sagekun, @lucifarts-boxers, @ieathairs, @prettyra3v3n, @akemiixx01, @probablynoposts, @mortallyshamelessfella, @odevote118, @sunlightstarr, @hispasian-otaku, @n8mareee, @toobytub, @toshikochan, @firesunflames, @nightlysunn (Accounts that I was unable to tag have been removed. Remember to check your settings if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[pottedplant53]

Silly Little Theory About Heartslabyul (Contains Mild Spoilers!)

Hello again :3

So I had this thought the other day after writing my theory about Cater (which you can read here if you're interested) about who the Heartslabyul characters are based on.

So all of the Heartslabyul kids (with the exception of Riddle) at first glance seem to be the card soldiers and nothing else – but I think most (if not all of them) have secondary inspirations on top of that, which is what I’ll be speculating on. It seems kind of unlikely that they would base an entire dorm, the largest and first one in the story no less, around what was essentially one ‘villain’. Because let’s be real, no one can name their favourite card soldier.

So in summary, this post is just Heartslabyul brainrot and some observations I've made - Note that I'm pretty far from a Disney expert, and this is all just speculation. Take it with a pinch of salt and enjoy :)

Trey Clover - King of Hearts

The reason that the King of Hearts comes to mind is because of the sort of mediator role both he and Trey play. In Alice in Wonderland, the King is very timid against the Queen and tries his best to calm her down without ever fully standing up to her. It’s clear he cares about her a lot, but is unwilling to call her out on her behaviour, only ever managing to barely fan the flames and clean up her messes (i.e. convincing her to hold a trial for Alice instead of outright beheading her).

This reflects most of Trey’s interactions with Riddle in chapter 1; He cares about him a lot (whether that be platonically or romantically, whatever floats your boat), but is too afraid to confront him about his actions. He tries his best to keep the dorm running smoothly under the oppression, always baking Riddle tarts and trying to talk him out of unnecessarily punishing students who break absurd rules. Don’t quote me on this because I can’t really remember, but I think he also tried to convince Riddle not to behead Ace at one point too???

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Ace Trappola - Alice

A lot of people seem to agree that Ace draws some inspiration from Alice. From their names sounding similar, to their shared disregard for things and people they find annoying or unfair, it isn’t difficult to see why so many have come to this conclusion.

What’s more is that they both stood up to their rulers (The Queen and Riddle) and both have a penchant for sneaking off and getting into trouble. I’m referring to Ace’s ceremonial vignette, in which he grabs Epel and sneaks out of orientation in case that wasn’t clear. It’s also mentioned repeatedly that Ace has an older brother who teaches him a lot of things, much like Alice’s older sister does. They both do whatever they can to get out of things they don’t want to do – Alice snuck away from her lesson and Ace refused to clean windows. There’s probably a lot more, but that’s all I can think of off the top of my head.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Cater Diamond - Cinderella

Most people have already heard of this one before, so I’ll keep it brief. Cater shares some major parallels with Cinderella that aren't too hard to spot. Like I mentioned before, I wrote a small theory about Caterella which I linked earlier for anyone who wants to read it :D

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Deuce Spade - I honestly have no idea

I’ve thought about it for ages and aside from his card soldier counterpart, I can’t think of anything that makes sense (T⌓T). If you have any theories or even any nonsensical, unorganized thoughts about who Deuce might be based on, please let me know :3

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. I've finally found a medium to share my brainrot (tumblr) on and I'm never stopping so prepare yourself for an onslaught of shitty TWST theories with minimal organisation-

[theforgottenmcrmy]

Vipers~ Part 3/3 (Ser Harwin Strong x Reader)

᯽ Please note that this is an overall part 15 of the series “Growing Strong”. The masterlist for the series, and vipers parts 1 and 2, can be found on the pinned post on my profile. Tumblr is being mean and not letting me link it here. :( ᯽

Pairing: Ser Harwin Strong x Tyrell! Female Reader

Warnings: GOT typical sexism, canon divergence, mentions of death of previous characters, GOT typical stigmatized bastardy, hypocrisy, Larys Strong is a warning in and of himself, GOT typical violent acts and blood, self-defense killing

Summary: If this was the end, at least you were being treated to a lovely view.

A/N: PLEASE read the warnings, this chapter gets a bit heavy, folks. Thank you so much for bearing with me. This chapter is a hefty one, but there’s a lot that goes down, so I hope you don’t mind too much. As always, thank you so much for reading and for your support.🖤🖤🖤

PS, snow prevented me from going to work today, so instead, I wrote a little winterish fluffy one shot with Harwin and Ms. Tyrell that I’m going to post on 12/25. Until then, I hope you have happy holidays (if you celebrate), and if not, I just hope you have a nice couple of next few days!🖤

Ser Vaemond’s lifeless eyes haunted you every time you closed your own.

The troubling image stayed with you throughout the day and night. You could not bring yourself to eat; nothing was remotely appealing. When you tried to sleep, all you could see was the flash of Dark Sister catching the sun and silver braided locks, rolling and rolling.

This, this is what Harwin tried desperately to warn you of. There was no way Harwin could have foreseen Vaemond Velaryon losing his head right before your eyes, but he knew Daemon. Harwin had come to know a great deal about him while the Rogue Prince served as the Commander of the City Watch, and Harwin was under his command. Prince Daemon was impulsive and violent, and it was no surprise that such traits had a tendency to bring out unspeakable acts from a person. Harwin alluded to but had ultimately spared you many of the details regarding the Rogue Prince’s various misdeeds, many of which he had witnessed first hand all those years ago.

Part of you wished Harwin had not withheld the information. You just might have listened to him when he pleaded for you to not go to the Red Keep alone.

Even the next day, when you found yourself surrounded by Princess Rhaenyra and the youngest of her children in her chambers, as you had already several times during your short stay, you could not take the same comfort from it. It only made the yearning to be reunited with Harwin and your own family that much stronger.

At least you would not have to wait too long.

“... Lady Y/N?”

You blinked, realizing Prince Joffrey was staring up at you inquisitively. “Forgive me, My Prince. Where were we?”

The young prince hesitated for a moment, but eventually resumed his reading. Prince Joffrey had recently begun his tutelage under the maesters in Dragonstone, and was eager for any opportunity to demonstrate his reading and discuss other topics he was learning about with anyone who would pay him mind. You found Prince Joffrey’s enthusiasm as he recounted House Targaryen’s origins in Old Valeryia endearing, but it wasn’t enough to entirely lift your spirits.

Princess Rhaenyra noticed this as well. She exchanged a silent word with her husband, who rose to his feet from his chair near the fireplace. With Prince Viserys occupying one of his arms, Prince Daemon offered his free hand to Prince Joffrey.

“Come, Joffrey. Perhaps your sisters would like to hear the tale next?”

Prince Joffrey nodded obediently, closed his book, and took the hand his stepfather offered him. As Prince Daemon and the younger princes made to leave, Princess Rhaenyra handed Prince Aegon over to his nursemaid, who followed suit. In just a few moments, her chambers were completely empty.

Save the two of you.

The door clicked shut.

“Y/N.”

Though you were reluctant to do so, you forced yourself to meet her concerned look.

“Come sit with me?”

You crossed the room slowly and lowered yourself onto the sofa beside her, but sat very lightly.

“You have been distracted all day,” Princess Rhaenyra observed. “You may have tried to disguise it, but I do not think you have changed so much in the past seven years that I would not be able to tell something is amiss. I know you, and I can tell that something troubles you. What is on your mind?”

“Do you regret it?”

Princess Rhaenyra was taken aback. “Regret what, my friend?”

“Regret it?” you implored. “Do you regret that the actions you’ve taken led to Ser Vaemond’s death? Because although those deeds were not mine, I have steadfastly supported you all these years. And I do not feel beyond reproach for what happened to him.”

Ser Vaemond may have acted unsavory and publicly shamed Princess Rhaenyra and her children, but his anger was rooted from truth, not treason. His actions may have been misguided, but the fuel that drove him to act was based in reality, not fiction.

And he had lost his head for it.

Princess Rhaenyra looked at you calculatingly. Thankfully, she did not look offended by your questions, only curious, as if trying to determine some deeper meaning behind them.

“If you are asking me if I feel guilty about Ser Vaemond’s death, of course I do,” she avowed. “For though it was not I that held the sword, my actions placed him in the path of husband’s blade. I can and will acknowledge that.”

“... But?”

“If you are asking if I regret my companionship with Ser Royce, my answer is no.”

You let out the breath you weren’t aware you’d been holding.

Princess Rhaenyra continued on, and as she did, you clung on to every one of her words.

“I cannot regret it, for I had no other choice. That was my task, as my father’s heir- to strengthen my claim, and ensure my succession. Besides what these vipers whisper about it, I truly loved my husband. But Laenor could not give me what I needed. I needed heirs.”

“And so you got them.”

“And so I did.” 

You had finally begun to understand the deeper motivations behind Princess Rhaenyra’s dangerous affair with the late son of the Lord of Storm’s End. Yes, perhaps passion had played a part in it. Princess Rhaenyra was a passionate woman. But she spoke of the matter with great conviction, and there was no doubting that Princess Rhaenyra viewed the affair of securing her three eldest heirs with Ser Royce to be just as much duty as it might have been for pleasure.

She had married Ser Laenor for duty, but her hopes for the union had fallen to the wayside. Perhaps that was why she indulged herself to marry the true and long withstanding object of her desire after his passing.

Princess Rhaenyra defended, “Ser Vaemond’s death was unfortunate, but avoidable. I will bear harsh criticisms from those who falsely deem themselves to be my superiors, as I have had to for years. But Ser Vaemond insulted my children and threatened their very futures. Having had a parent who, for all their good intentions, could not or chose not to defend me as often as I would have liked, I promised myself long ago that I would be different to my own. Ser Vaemond was destined to meet this end, for as determined as he was to usurp my son’s inheritance, I am just as determined to staunchly defend it. I would do anything to protect my children.”

Queen Alicent’s own words from your conversation the week prior echoed in your mind.

…But I would do anything to protect my children and grandchildren…

A queen, a princess, and a lady. All three of you had only ever wanted to protect your own. But the lengths at which you would go to secure their safety, and the ulterior motives of those around you, doomed you all to be constantly be at odds.

“If I had to do it all again, knowing what I know now, I still would,” Princess Rhaenyra mused after a comfortable silence. “Although, there is one regret I still have- and one thing I would change.”

“And what is that, Your Grace?”

“The very moment someone dared to breathe a foul word about your husband, I should have had my father cut out their tongue at once.”

“You would run out of daggers before you ran out of tongues, Your Grace.”

“Mayhaps. But if there was anything that would have spared you and Harwin from being associated with the consequences of my actions, it would have been done.”

She had said something very similar to you years ago. Just as you had not then, you did not doubt the sincerity of Princess Rhaenyra’s words now, only whether she would be in a position to make good on her promise. Years of vicious rumors attempting to taint the image of you and your husband did not simply erase themselves from people’s minds. Truthfully, what could Princess Rhaenyra do to repay you for all you and your family had endured the years you spent by her side?

Once more, Queen Alicent's ominous words of warning crept over you.

Your loyalty to your husband and Princess Rhaenyra is admirable… I can only hope that your former mistress will never use it against you. 

Princess Rhaenyra reached out and took your hands in her own, distracting you from your less than pleasant thoughts. “I appreciate you coming here to show me your support. Though the means were not desirable, I cannot find much fault with how it ended.”

Prince Lucerys had been reconfirmed as Lord Corlys’s heir to Driftmark. Prince Daemon had bought them all more time to strengthen their claims.

“But we both know the capital is not the same one that we once knew. And for now, I feel we are both better served taking our leave of it. After we dine with the King this evening, my family will return to Dragonstone. I may be a princess, but as your friend, I advise you to depart as well.”

“I sent a raven to Harwin last night,” you informed her. The thought of seeing your husband and children in just a few short days brought a faint smile to your lips. After attending a family dinner of your own that evening, you and the escort were due to leave on the morrow to head to Duskendale. And, for many reasons, you were counting the passing hours.

“Let us hope that the next time we meet, we shall both be in better spirits.”

A wonderful thought. And hopefully, an attainable one. The state of things was already quite bleak. You did not believe it possible for any dark turns to linger on the road ahead.

Not yet, at least.

Larys could tell you were tired, though not particularly nervous as you entered into his chambers later that evening. That was perfectly suitable- the more relaxed you were, the more likely your tongue would loosen as well.

And the more fervently Larys could reassure his Queen that you were not knowledgeable of his connection to the fire at Harrenhal, the better.

You had taken care to change into a gown different from the one he’d spotted you wearing in the gardens earlier that afternoon. The gown you wore now was more suitable evening attire, and was remarkably flattering on you. Every now and then, the small glimmer from the fire and nearby candles caught your eyes in a twinkle.

Larys supposed, in the right light and angle, he could see what his elder brother saw in you. But there was another beauty from the Reach who had long since caught Larys’s eye, one that was much more preferred.

After exchanging small pleasantries, Larys offered to pour you a cup of wine. To his delight, you accepted unwittingly. But when it came to the main course, you completely paled at the sight of the cooked venison.

“Forgive me,” you muttered, politely raising a hand to decline his offer to cut you off a piece. “I have not had much of an appetite as of late. The events of yesterday have left me feeling rather queasy.”

To each their own. Larys cut off a healthy serving and skillfully placed it onto his own plate. “Ah, yes. A gruesome scene, was it not?”

“You do not seem particularly surprised. Am I to believe sudden and unannounced beheadings happen often at the foot of the Iron Throne, Good Brother?”

Larys mentalled chided himself. Reign it in. “No, they do not. But, in addition to the Master of Whisperers, I was also most recently appointed to the position of the Lord Confessor, My Lady.”

“My apologies- it briefly slipped my mind that you've served the realm as a confessor for quite some time.”

You were not the first to have forgotten about Larys. But perhaps you would be one of the last. “Yes, My Lady. I’ve been a confessor since before you even came to Court.”

“Then it is only natural for you to have seen some… things, I expect?”

This was all hardly appropriate dinner conversation, but if the discussion kept you talking, Larys could live with it. “I will concede that I have seen men in rather… unfortunate, circumstances.”

You said nothing, but instead grabbed a handful of grapes. Larys doubted you’d work up the nerve to even eat them.

“But enough talk about all of that,” he redirected, giving you the finest smile he possessed. “How are the children?”

At the mere mention of your and Harwin’s spawn, your face lit up.

For the next several minutes, Larys listened to you prattle on about his nephews and niece. 

… Derrick favors Harwin greatly in looks, but luckily, his mind is like that of your father’s… A brawny boy with an intellect. Perhaps the lad was lucky to inherit more brains than his father, if he was still burdened with Harwin’s looks. And yes, Larys could concede that his father, Lord Lyonel Strong, had been an intelligent man. But he had lacked the “wisdom” to see the wolf in sheep’s clothing among his own kin, hadn’t he?

… Selwin favors my own brother so greatly, some days I feel as though I have seen a ghost. But he’s kind to everyone, unless he is provoked… A boy who had inherited Harwin’s notoriously quick to ignite temper. That was most unfortunate. And though the boy looked like your late brother, Larys couldn’t help but wonder if he was as meddling as Lord Derron had been. Look at what your brother’s curiosity had cost him, after all.

Was this really who Queen Alicent was worried about becoming privy to his connection to the fire at Harrenhal? A mother who, like many others, placed far too much importance in her own children? Larys was tempted to believe he could personally set Harrenhal ablaze before your very eyes, but if your own children were nearby, you’d be far too distracted to pay him any mind.

Queen Alicent had given you far too much credit.

“... And then there’s Luciya. She doesn’t seem to favor any one side of the family in particular. But she’s very sweet. I would love for her to finally meet her uncle, Good Brother. Perhaps you might be willing to ride out and meet us on our way back through? I am sure you would be just as taken with her as we are.” 

Larys had never had any inclination to be nurturing, and he had never felt anything but complete apathy for Derrik and Selwin, let alone for any children at all. He doubted your statement very much. It was only after reminding himself that the role he was playing was that of a caring Good Brother and uncle did he force himself to smile.

“Perhaps I shall. Pray tell, where are you going next?”

“Since you already knew of my intent to visit King’s Landing without either Hariwn or myself informing you of it, I assumed you knew the extent of all our travel plans.”

Larys smiled again. But this time, it felt even more strained. “I know a great deal of what goes on in the realm, Good Sister. But not even I am omnipotent.”

You laughed. “I only jest with you, Lord Larys. We left the Reach to visit with Princess Rhaenyra and her family in Dragonstone.”

This caught Larys by surprise. “Dragonstone? … After everything?”

“Why should we not? We were extended an invitation. Forgive me, Good Brother, but I did not believe my closeness with Princess Rhaenyra was a secret.”

“Neither was my brother’s.”

Larys knew the slip was a possibly grave one when you abruptly dropped the grape you had been contemplating eating back onto your plate. Your own smile fell, and you looked at Larys across the table with a worryingly blank expression.

“Larys… You don’t truly believe that your brother is the sire of the eldest princes, do you?”

Larys knew how troubled their oafish father was by the possibility. It was made apparent to him that Lord Lyonel believed that intimacy existed between Harwin and Princess Rhaenyra. But what interested him far more was how vehemently you insisted the opposite. Were you truly that desperate to refuse to acknowledge what many others already had about your husband? … Or was there some other truth that you knew that gave you cause not to abandon your position on the matter?

“It is my turn to apologize, My Lady. ‘Twas a poor taste of comment. Of course, I would hope that Harwin is not the father of the Princess’s eldest sons. Not only would that be an irreparable political scandal, but that would taint the very image I have of him.”

The tension in your jaw slackened, but you remained silent, urging Larys to continue.

“I know how devoted my brother is to you, Good Sister, and I find it hard to believe such foul rumors about the princes’ parentage can be given any true merit. However, the question does remain of why the princes take so little after Ser Laenor… A genuine curiosity, isn’t it?”

Unfortunately for Larys, you did not take the bait. “‘Tis no curiosity at all, My Lord. The princes clearly take after their grandmother’s Baratheon heritage.”

Pft. Larys had to take a drink from his goblet to stifle the laugh that threatened his already delicate facade. “But of course, Good Sister. If only others at Court saw it as plainly as you did, yesterday's festivities might have been avoidable after all.”

You took a sip from your own goblet, still regarding him carefully.

“Mayhaps we can turn to some lighter conversation?” Larys proposed, hoping to turn the tide. “How is my brother?”

Quite similar to when Larys had mentioned your children, your expression brightened at once. “Well, to begin, he wishes you would write to him more often, My Lord.”

You were about as subtle as a dragon, Larys decided.

“But beyond that, Harwin is well. Lord Dannis is an excellent steward, and Harwin is able to carry out most of his duties as Lord of Harrenhal without having to leave the Reach.”

“Has he no desire to return to our family’s home?”

“Do you?”

Larys had no form of emotional attachment to the decrepit excuse of a keep that was Harrenal. But there were very, very few things he deemed worthwhile to complicate with emotions. And Harwin was little else than an emotionally driven man. “He is the Lord of Harrenhal, My Lady. Surely my brother does not intend to keep himself from returning to its halls forever?”

“I am certain Harwin will return to Harrenhal at some point or another, Good Brother… But that will only be when he is ready to do so. If he does not wish to return to your family’s home, I will not be the one that forces him to.”

Perhaps you had even less conviction than his brother, if that were even possible.

“... The things we saw when we were last there were awful, My Lord. None of my family wishes to tempt the ill memories of that night to return to our minds.”

You had opened the door. Larys would capitalize on it.

The time had finally come for him to delve into the details and discover what all was learned from the fire at Harrenhal, and to determine whether you and Harwin would be a threat to everything Larys had strove to accomplish in the name of his beloved Queen.

Perhaps you knew little to nothing. Perhaps you knew more than you’d let on so far. Regardless, your fate would be sealed.

Larys had already committed all sorts of atrocities in the name of Queen Alicent. Should it be deemed necessary, what was one more?

“I understand my brother was quite disturbed after the fire.”

You raised an eyebrow at Larys’s suggestion. “Would you not be? Harwin fought through the flames to try and save your father, only to fail.” You nearly shuddered to think what Harwin had overheard, had he reached Lord Lyonel’s chambers before the man had passed.

“He wrote to me often, you know.”

“Harwin believed that if there was anyone who could discover a connection between the fire and someone who roamed these halls, it would be you, Lord Larys.”

“Alas, my efforts were fruitless,” Larys admitted gloomily. “... But, should you feel so inclined, I was wondering if you might answer some questions I have?”

You frowned slightly. “Certainly Harwin already provided you with all the information you could have possibly needed to perform your due diligence?”

“Aye, he did. But, for my own sake, and for my own thirst for justice in my father’s name, would you humor me?”

Larys’s sudden turn of questioning was rather suspicious. From what you understood, Harwin’s letters pleading with Larys to investigate the fire and any potential connections to those within the Red Keep had gone relatively ignored. Larys had been all too quick to deem the affair an accident, and cited the recent construction projects within Harrenhal as possible sources of origin. It begged the question of why your Good Brother was showing any sort of interest in the fire now.

But who were you to deny his inquiries?

“If I have the answers you seek, consider them yours.”

“Harwin mentioned Lord Dannis showed you to a suspicious man the morning after the fire,” Larys recalled before taking another bite of venison.

“Yes.” You grimaced at the memory. “‘Twas no use in questioning him- he was short of a tongue, I’m afraid.”

Larys’s neutral expression was still, and unchanging. “Did he bear any sort of emblem, or other identifying mark?”

“... Like what, My Lord?”

“Well, from my own experience dealing with similar filth, those who devise monstrous deeds such as a plot to kill the Hand of the King and his heirs usually tend to want to leave their own mark upon it. Perhaps it is a bit foolish, but some of the most twisted deviants care little for whether they are likely to be caught, or they simply believe they will not be. If there was any sort of emblem, sigil, or any other kind of heraldry, even something small and insignificant, that this strange, tongue-less man wore or bore, it could be an indication of whom he served.”

You did not dare to breathe. “I thought you believed the fire at Harrenhal to be an accident, My Lord. Have you reconsidered your stance?”

“Regrettably, I have not. I still full-heartedly believe the tragedy was just that- a tragedy. Unavoidable, but the fault of no one. Still, I consider myself to be a particularly thorough man, and I like to consider all possibilities, regardless of how improbable they may seem.”

“... It would be most convenient if the man had had something to indicate his master, or mistress, as you have described. Unfortunately, he did not.”

That had been your agreement.

Outside of you, Harwin, and Lord Dannis, not a single soul from Harrenhal to King’s Landing to the Reach knew of the firefly pin that had been found on the suspicious man taken captive the night of the fire. And it would remain that way. There was some hope, however small it was, that if such an individual who used that sigil would be so bold as to carry out another plot against you, you would be able to link the two events together, and hopefully, the orchestrator would be revealed.

Though Larys was Harwin’s family, and most likely could be trusted, the less who knew about the firefly pin, the better.

Larys looked thoroughly surprised by your answer. “Truly? … None at all?”

“None at all.” You took another drink of wine from your goblet.

Larys mimicked your action. “How most peculiar… Well, perhaps this suspicious man was not so suspicious, after all. Or at least, did not have a hand in the tragedy. Since he bore no indication of whom he may or may not have been serving, he could have merely been stealing food from the kitchens, for all we know.”

You sincerely doubted that, but did not disagree with your Good Brother’s helpful and convenient proposal.

…

For the rest of the dinner, Larys seemed to be in a notably pleasant mood. You suspected, despite what Larys may have told Harwin, he might have had his own doubts about the origins of the fire at Harrenhal.

You were happy you could put your Good Brother at ease, even if your words were not entirely honest. Harwin was already burdened with the truth that someone had likely set out to kill his father, himself, and your entire family. It was senseless to burden Larys with the information as well, especially since you had no viable suspect to show for it.

The rest of the dinner was spent in frivolous but calm conversation. It was a bit boring for your taste, but you would happily take an evening without excitement after witnessing the horror that was Ser Vaemond Velaryon’s beheading the prior afternoon.

As Larys went to pour you another cup of wine, you placed your hand over the top of your goblet to stop him. “I really should not. If I drink too much more, I fear I will not be able to stay atop of my horse on the morrow.”

Larys did not laugh at your joke. Instead, he looked intrigued. “You are leaving so soon?”

You nodded. “I wrote to Harwin last night. With any luck, my escort and I will make it to Duskendale in just a few days.”

“How most wise,” your Good Brother noted, pouring another cup of whine for himself. “With all sorts of brigands and bandits preying upon travelers these days, it was a good idea to inform my brother of when you expect you.”

The thoughts of being ambushed along the way left you feeling worried. “Has there been a particular problem with miscreants of that nature in the Crownlands, My Lord?”

“No more than the usual, though they always pose a threat, My Lady.” When you said nothing, Larys added, “But I have seen your guards, particularly Ser Alren. I would venture you are in safe hands, especially if my brother deemed them capable of keeping you so.”

You smiled, thankful for his reassurance. Then, you exhaled. “This was a lovely dinner, Good Brother. It was nice to see you after all these years. Perhaps you might extend your brother the same courtesy in the near future?”

Larys smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. “If the gods are kind, perhaps I shall.”

You scooted your chair back from the table. Larys made to stand as well, but you waved him off. As you moved your feet beneath you to rise from your seat, one of them inadvertently nudged Larys’s cane, which he had propped up against his side of the table. The cane tipped over and hit the floor, rolling a few feet away before coming to a slow stop. 

You cursed under your breath. “My apologies, My Lord. Perhaps I drank a bit too much wine after all.”

Larys tried to rise once again. “Do not trouble yourself over it. I shall retrieve it.”

“No, no,” you insisted quickly, already walking over to where the cane had landed. “‘Tis no trouble at all.” You bent down and swiped the cane up into your free hand. As you did, you noticed two things.

The first was the smoothness of the finished wood beneath your fingers, which was nothing out of the ordinary.

The second was the rather peculiar jewel and metalwork ingrained in the pommel of the cane. You only glanced at it at first, but then it suddenly captured your complete focus. The gold metalwork was fashioned into a simple but clearly discernible depiction of an eerily familiar insect. Affixed to the bottom of the bug was a just as familiar yellow gem.

Once you realized you had seen this same design not once, but twice before, you shocked yourself when you were able to muffle your gasp.

First, you had seen it the very day you left King’s Landing, almost seven years ago. It had caught the rising sun in the courtyard as your carriage departed.

Second, you had seen it pinned to the cloak of the man who lingered suspiciously on the grounds the night of the fire at Harrenhal. As the rising sun bathed the simmering and smoking remains of the keep, it had also caught the yellow gem.

And third, illuminated by the fireplace before you, it was right here and now, before your own eyes. In your very own hands.

Ingrained in the pommel of your Good Brother’s cane.

A firefly.

“My Lady, are you alright?”

You flinched at Larys’s question, but went with the movement rather than against it. Pushing yourself forward, you swallowed thickly, thankful your head was turned away from his direction, if only for a moment. You let out a silent breath, and turned back to face him. Keeping your voice steady and even, you supplied simply, “Yes… ‘Twas only inspecting it for damage, My Lord.”

You took slow steps back to the table and handed the cane back over to Larys, who took it from you with an appreciative smile.

“I wouldn’t concern yourself with damaging it, Good Sister,” he dismissed politely. “It’s a sturdy thing, just like me.”

You forced yourself to offer him a single laugh in response.

Before Larys could say anything further, you filled the brief silence with words of your own. “Forgive me, Lord Larys, but I am suddenly feeling ill. Since we are due to leave early tomorrow morning, would you be too offended if I retired?”

Larys looked a bit confused, but not suspicious. Not yet. After a moment, he shook his head. “Of course not, My Lady. Rest well.”

With one last and extremely strained smile, you headed over towards the chamber doors.

Behind you, Larys called, “And safe travels, Good Sister.”

…

……

………

……

…

It had been a long day in the Red Keep.

But for Lord Larys Strong, Master of Whisperers, the day had only just begun.

“Let go of me!... This isn’t right!”

Lord Caswell’s cries as he struggled against the guards were slowly silenced the further away he was dragged.

“You did well, Lord Larys.”

Larys looked over at Lord Otto Hightower carefully. He sought no praise from the man before him. The only one Larys ever allowed himself to desire such a futile thing from the man’s daughter. But it was of little consequence to Larys for him placate the Lord Hand’s ego by feigning humbleness and appreciation. 

“Only my duty, my Lord Hand.”

Larys was content to leave on that note. Queen Alicent must have been worried sick, being forced to wait for hours until someone brought word of the continuing search for Prince Aegon. Now that Larys had rooted out all the possible turncoats locked within the Red Keep and handed them over to be properly dealt with, he felt he would be of better use offering himself to be at Queen Alicent’s disposal, should she need him at all.

For anything.

“You’ve spent many hours with the Queen as of late.”

There was an unspoken question in the Lord Hand’s seemingly innocent statement.

Larys paused. He tapped the bottom of his cane thoughtfully. Out of all the many interesting developments that had taken place in the Red Keep that morning, the one before him now seemed to be the most intriguing of them all. Lord Otto Hightower had never publicly insulted him, but Larys had suspected him guilty of whispering foul things about him in his Queen’s ear when he was not present. The fool. Did her father not know how indebted Queen Alicent was to her most dedicated servant? The only reason Lord Otto was before him and not his own father, Lord Lyonel, was by Larys’s designs. And now, the leach wanted something from him?

Perhaps Larys ought to make him pay for his hubris. No telling what might come of it, but since he had no desire to truly please the Lord Hand, it could only result in things Larys could use for his own advantageous purposes.

“There’s no reason those hours could not, in the end, benefit you.”

The way Lord Otto looked at him then, in the very moment he believed Larys was willing to negotiate some sort of arrangement, Larys was convinced he had chosen the wrong path in life. Had he not been born with his physical deformity, nor the second son of a lord, he would have made a killing as an actor. He was certain of it. How many people could say that they out-slithered the viper?

“I am relieved to hear that you are dedicated to the realm as a whole, Lord Larys, and not just to my daughter.”

“One would be foolish to bite the hand that feeds it, no?”

“Quite,” Lord Otto agreed with a smug smile. “... There is another matter that I wished to discuss with you, and since I can see you are perfectly capable of seeing the bigger picture in all of this mess, I hope you will not misunderstand the reason for which I make my request.”

“Name it, Lord Hand.”

“Lady Y/N Tyrell.”

Larys regarded Lord Otto with great caution, suddenly feeling the incredibly strong urge to tread lightly. “My Good Sister? … She left the Red Keep a few days ago now, Lord Hand. Her party rides for Duskendale as we speak.”

Did Larys have some regrets about simply letting you leave? Of course. But what choice did he have? You had proven you posed no threat to him, that you knew nothing of his involvement in the fire at Harrenhal. And beyond that, you had already written to Harwin, who knew exactly when to expect your arrival. Delaying that would have only roused unnecessary suspicion from his brother.

“Yes, she did,” Lord Otto conceded. “… But she must never reach her destination.”

Larys did not bother to hide his surprise. His initial inclination was to use this fragile but blossoming alliance with Lord Otto to further Queen Alicent’s cause, by providing her with the hidden knowledge of her father’s actions. But if Larys could benefit personally by aligning his own desires with that of the Lord Hand’s…

“You are no fool, Lord Larys. Two of the most powerful houses in the Reach are the Hightowers and the Tyrells. One house can be counted on to support the one, true king. The other can not. Should this come to war, the Reach will be divided. If Lady Y/N reaches Duskendale, she and your brother will set sail for Dragonstone shortly after, and submit themselves to the usurper's ranks. I fear your brother may already be a lost cause, but there is no reason why Princess Rhaenyra should have the Wardeness of the South and Lord of Harrenhal in her pocket.”

Larys knew of the affluent resources at his Good Sister’s disposal. Gold. Lots of it. Men. Lots of those, too. The Lord Hand had a point- what a pity it would be if such a valuable asset should fall into the wrong hands. “She must not reach her destination then, My Lord Hand.”

Lord Otto looked shocked by Larys’s swift decision. “Lady Y/N is your Good Sister, Lord Larys. Your brother’s wife.”

“Traitors to the crown are no blood of mine.”

Lord Otto’s look of shock shifted into one of understanding, appreciation, even. “I am impressed; you truly are a man of reason, Lord Larys… Go, then. Ensure Lady Y/N befalls some troubles on the road. Whatever men you need to fulfill this task, consider them yours.”

“I have men under my employ already, Lord Hand, but you humble me with your offer.”

“Use whoever you wish, then. Just see to it that it gets done.”

Larys nodded his head respectfully. As he turned to leave once again, the gears already began to churn in his mind. The party is already a few days ahead, so some fast riders would be most prudent... A letter to help frame the altercation as an accident.... and perhaps another as a safeguard-

“And, Lord Larys?”

Larys looked over his shoulder. “Yes?”

“Do take care that this matter is taken care of quickly and cleanly. No mistakes can be afforded.”

“Of course, Lord Hand.”

Larys had already disposed of another golden rose once before. But by the time Lord Derron had caught on to his doings, it was far too late- the letter of warning Lord Derron addressed to his dear younger sister never made it into your hands. Instead, it was locked away in Larys’s chambers, where it would remain.

It had been a close call, but the disposal of this second golden rose would not be. Larys would make certain of that.

Lord Otto added one last remark. “And I think we can both understand that the Queen need not be burdened with this unpleasant business.”

For once, Larys was inclined to agree with the Lord Hand. Queen Alicent had shown him an unbecoming weakness she still harbored within herself; it was foolish to think your allegiance from Princess Rhaenyra could ever be swayed.

But Larys was not weak, he was a Strong. And he would do what needed to be done.

…

……

……….

……

…

The dagger at the side of your waist felt awfully heavy.

With each step your horse took, the small metal blade felt as though it was pulling you further and further down to the muddy ground below. If it got to be heavy enough, you might just allow yourself to fall with it.

The party was making terrible time. What should have only been a few days of traveling had grown into upwards of a week. Heavy rains in the area made the main road sloppy, and slowed the horses down greatly. Someone had proposed taking less-traveled paths off the main road, since the cover of trees would have redirected some of the falling rains from the grounds below the branches. But that was quickly set aside out of the concern of safety.

If Harwin hadn’t already grown worried about the extended traveling time, he certainly would have by now.

Harwin.

Gods, the one person you wanted to see more than anyone else, and yet, the very thought of being reunited with Harwin completely terrified you. How in the Seven Hells were you to explain not only that you had discovered who had plotted the fire at Harrenhal, but that it was none other than his beloved brother?

You had little doubt that Harwin would have extreme difficulty believing you at first… if at all. There could not be enough importance placed on determining the best phrasing and manner by which you revealed the discovery to him. But for the life of you, despite hours you spent on the road, you could not bring yourself to think of the matter any more than what your racing thoughts forced you to.

“We should stop up here at the turn, My Lady.”

You looked over at Ser Alren, who was riding his own horse beside yours. A few men in front and a few more bringing up the rear comprised all of the traveling party.

“Again?” You bit back the frustrated sigh that threatened to spill past your lips. “We are losing daylight, and at this pace, we’ve at least another two hours until the next inn.”

At any moment, realization could strike Larys. Your Good Brother would realize how oddly you had behaved at the end of your shared dinner, would put the pieces together, and would most likely act. But you had chosen not to share your shocking revelation with Ser Alren or the rest of the escort, as Harwin was the one who deserved to hear the truth from you first. You did not mean to come across short, but you had to continue impressing upon the party how urgently you desired to pick up the pace.

“It is to offer themselves relief, My Lady.”

You internally cursed. As if you could not afford your protectors that small decency. “Very well. But let’s be quick about it.”

The party directed their horses off to the side of the road, though you had not passed or even seen any other travelers for several hours. As most of the men dismounted and disappeared from view into the treeline, you, Ser Alren, and two others who had chosen to stay behind remained.

It was silent for several long moments, with the flapping of the Tyrell banners in the wind the only sound that could be heard.

When you suddenly dismounted, Ser Alren gave you a questioning look. You told him, “I shall be but a moment.”

Ser Alren looked as though he wanted to protest, but he did not. “Please, My Lady- make haste.” To the other two men who had remained behind, he directed, “Go and see what is keeping the others, would you?”

You crossed the road and disappeared into the opposite treeline that the rest of the party had gone into. After a short walk under the trees, you found a stream. Thankfully, the water looked decently clear. Even if your mind would not allow you to be entirely at ease, perhaps a freshening up would allow you to feel a little bit better. You scrubbed at your hands, and then your face. Though you still felt tired, largely in part to your inability to sleep much at all over the past few days, the cold water did wonders to help lift some of the grogginess.

When you were satisfied that you felt as well as you were likely to become, you headed back to the road. The closer you drew, the louder the horses became. They were becoming restless.

When they came into view, you confirmed as much. The horses were still tied to the trees that their riders had fixed them too, but they pulled against the restricted reins, as if trying to break free. But what was even more alarming was what you did not see.

“Ser Alren?”

When Ser Alren stepped around one of the horses and into your line of sight, you let out a sigh of relief. “Forgive me, My Lady. It looks as though something has spooked the horses-”

You could barely string your words together fast enough as you yelped, “Behind you!”

A cloaked figure caught Ser Alren off guard. Your warning had given your companion enough notice for him to step out of the way of his assailant’s blade, but not enough time to escape him outright. Ser Alren unsheathed his own sword, and the pair were entangled in a vicious scuffle.

Sounds of further fighting echoed beyond in the otherwise silent woods. You could also hear the thundering of hooves coming from up ahead, and felt the trembling of the ground. There was no telling how many more enemies were descending upon you and the party, but there was no doubt that some were already here.

“Run, My Lady!”

You barely had a moment to process Ser Alren’s command before someone grabbed you from behind.

In addition to showing you how to use the dagger he’d gifted you, Hariwn had also long since taught you some basic maneuvers for self-defense. When you suddenly found yourself in the clutches of an attacker, your instincts jumped to attention.

You kicked your favored leg free from your skirts and brought it down to the ground as hard as you could. When your heel collided with the foot of the assailant who’d grabbed you, a raw vocalization of pain rang in your ears. It was no normal scream, but you paid it no mind as your captor’s hold loosened enough for you to break free.

Your feet worked of their own accord as you sprinted away from the scene and back underneath the trees. Your heart burned as you ran further and further, but you did not dare turn around, lest you find yourself being pursued.

Only when you came upon the stream you’d found did you dare to take a moment. You glanced behind you- there was no one. The cooler air caused your breaths to come out in smoky puffs as you tried to gather your bearings.

You could run. Or rather, keep running. You were armed with a dagger, but not trained nor prepared to duel with men bearing swords. Safety first, those had been Harwin’s words once. Seek safety first, and strategize second. No use in calculating a plan of action when you could still be blindsighted at any moment.

Running it was, then. Should you need to, you could find it in yourself to climb a tree. You hadn’t done anything of the sort since you were a girl, but you’d find a way. You’d much rather await for rescue in a tree than allowing yourself to fall prey to whatever these assailants had in store for you on the ground.

In the distance, the clashing of swords sung.

Move, you told yourself.

You took a step forward, but froze as you saw another cloaked figure in the periphery of your vision. You weren’t sure what had compelled you to do what you did next, whether it was stupidity, fear, or anger, but it was certainly something that would’ve had Harwin in a concerned fit.

Instead of running, you turned, stood tall, and faced the cloaked figure head on.

In the setting sun, you saw a faint glimmer emitting from the front of their cloak. The figure removed their hood at your challenge, revealing the face of a man whom you did not recognize. 

“Who are you?” you demanded authoritatively. “Who do you serve?”

The man said nothing.

You surmised, “Do you refuse to speak, or are you simply unable to?”

As if willing to humor you, the man opened his mouth to reveal a tongueless void. You grimaced, thinking of your next move.

But you were spared devising your next course of action when the man across the way was suddenly speared, and a sword pierced through his stomach from behind.

You gasped, and once more, your instinct urged you to run. But you ran straight into the arms of another. And judging by the tight grip you found yourself ensnared in once again, you knew they were not the arms of a rescuer. You kicked and struggled in their grasp, fighting with enough strength that both you and your captor tumbled to the ground.

There was a brief struggle for power, with you getting the upper hand for a moment, and then losing your ground. Your attacker managed to snake an arm around your neck from behind you. When they applied pressure, your senses kicked into a height of which you’d never experienced before.

You used every bit of fight left within you to reach for the dagger at your waist. You’d been wise to not brandish it sooner, or else you likely would have been without it now. You and the assailant attempting to get the best of you rolled on the ground once more. You went with the momentum, hoping it would lure your the man into a false sense of hope that you had given up your struggle.

With your foe behind you, and your hand on the dagger, which was still shielded beneath your cloak, you caught a brief glimpse of the sky. It was painted beautifully by the setting sun. As your thumb brushed the rose on the dagger’s pommel, you faintly thought how much you would have loved to stare at it until it was no more. You longed to watch it fade until the image was replaced by the darkness of night, disrupted only by the cold lights of the stars. But with every passing moment, the breath in your lungs was escaping you.

If this was the end, at least you were being treated to a lovely view.

With a strength you did not know you possessed, you took the dagger in both of your hands, and with all the force you could muster, you drove it down past your side, and into the flesh of the body behind you.

There was no scream. Only a sickening wet sound that was haunting similar to the sound of Ser Vaemond Velaryon’s head being struck from his body.

The pressure of the arm around your neck loosened, before eventually ceasing altogether. You gasped for air, ignoring the burning within you.

Before you could even think, another pair of hands reached for you, and you flinched away. Your dagger was beyond your reach now, presumably still impaled in the stomach of your previous assailant. But you’d come this far, you’d be damned to go down without swinging. Screwing your eyes shut, you flung your fists about until you made contact with something solid. Metal.

Armor.

But what you heard next was not silence, nor a peculiarly pained noise, but a comfortingly familiar voice instead.

“Stop! Stop, it’s me!”

Your eyes shot open, the face above you revealing itself to be none other than the one who mattered to you most.

“Harwin.”

Harwin, donning his armor, was panting heavily, with half his hair pulled up and away from his face. He scanned the area briefly before his comforting hazel eyes returned to you. The love, and relief, that you saw within them was overwhelming. But your husband did not look at you for long, as his focus quickly fell to your side.

“Are you hurt?”

Your eyes followed his own, where you saw angry splotches of red along the waist of your gown. You didn’t trust your own voice yet, but as you didn’t feel anything other than the wild beating of your heart and the faint burning in your chest, you shook your head.

You could tell by the look in his eyes that Harwin wasn’t quite convinced as to whether he could believe you. But when abruptly he pulled you into his arms, you knew it did not matter.

The two of you, still kneeling on the forest floor, gripped one another more tightly than you ever had before as the adrenaline began to die off.

“How are you here?” you asked, your voice muffled by Harwin’s chest.

He placed a comforting hand on the back of your head, silently conveying that he had no intention of letting you go anywhere just yet. Not that you wanted to. “When you did not arrive a few days ago, as you expected to, I was worried. But when Lord Darklyn received troubling news from King’s Landing, I knew I had to ride out and find you at once. We’ve been riding for a day straight. By the looks of it, we arrived not a moment too soon.”

You buried your face in the front of Harwin’s breastplate, not daring to look anywhere else. You spared the last thought you could for the man lying only a few paces away. “I’ve killed him, haven’t I?”

Harwin’s arms around you tightened. Unlike before, the restriction meant safety, not danger. It meant comfort. “No.” He pressed a chaste but undoubtedly loving kiss to your hairline. “You defended yourself, My Love.”

You killed a man.

But that could be dwelled upon later. “What was the troubling news Lord Darklyn received from the capital? … Is Princess Rhaenyra well?”

Harwin pulled back slowly, reluctantly removing his arms from around you. He cupped both sides of your face in his hands, capturing your full and complete attention. Harwin looked uncertain; his expression was one of great conflict, and he even looked a bit pained.

“The King is dead.”

“My Lord, My Lady!”

Ser Alren, accompanied by most of your men and others who must have rode out with Harwin, drew near. As they approached, Harwin stood, and helped you to your own two feet.

“Are you alright?” Ser Alren asked. The blatant concern on his face was touching.

“We will be,” Harwin answered, sounding more confident than you suspected he truly felt at that moment. “How many-”

“We were outnumbered, My Lord… and we lost two of our own because of it. But we outmatched them in skill. Rest assured that these mute heathens paid for the lives of two good and honorable men with each and every one of their own. May the Father judge them justly, and the Stranger guide them.”

Two of your own men, who had protected you and your family, gone. You didn’t bother to ask Ser Alren who they might have been at that moment- you would find out soon enough, when you would have to write to their kin and inform them of the loss.

“We shall pay them their more than earned respects, once it is safe to do so,” Harwin avowed somberly. “... Did you say these brigands were mute?”

“Yes, attempting to get any information out of them would have been futile. They have no tongues.”

You and Harwin exchanged a wary look.

“Does this mean anything to you?” Ser Alren deposited something small into Harwin’s open palm. “Appears as though they were all bearing it…” He glanced behind him briefly. “Even these two.”

You stared at the small item in your husband’s hand dumbfoundedly.

“It looks to be a pin of some sort,” Ser Alren speculated. “... That’s a firefly, is it not?”

Harwin went still.

“Harwin,” you said to him in a hushed tone, pulling at his arm closest to you desperately. “We really need to talk-”

But Ser Alren pressed, “My Lord and My Lady, I’m afraid that’s not all we found.”

You and Harwin watched as Ser Alren withdrew two scrolls from his cloak. They were small, as though they had been intended for a raven. As Ser Alren handed them over to the two of you, he explained further, “Found these in one of their cloaks. They share the same seal, but we left them unbroken.”

Though you knew what you would find, your gut sank when you recognized the seal beneath your fingers. You looked up Harwin.

Your husband looked at the firefly pin in one hand, and a scroll with the malvales seal in the other.

When realization finally dawned upon Harwin, your heart broke on his behalf.

A/N: Thank you for reading! 🖤 Feel free to let me know what you think! I'm so excited to get into the last few episodes. and for Harwin to contemplate how he's gonna get his revenge on Larys

[katherinejess]

This is my first post on Tumblr! I’ve written before on Wattpad but I just recently got on here so here is my latest obsession, Xavier Thorpe.

Summary: Rowan’s sister is back from burying him but has to keep up the lie that he’s alive and just expelled. As a powerful Telekinetic, she’s always been under pressure from her dad but as the only child after her brother passing and that fact he went mad? It’s even worse.

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Reader

Warnings: Slowburn? I’m a book writer lol not imagines so there will be a part 2. For more just flirting

Edit: here is part 2!

Part 3 is now out!

A.N.: not edited

The class schedule in my hand is new but familiar. The only differences are the intense trainings that my dad had Principal Weems put in, despite her disagreement with him about it. I have always had decent control but when I found out about my brother, I lost it. I destroyed my entire room. Thankfully I was without a roommate at the time and now I can’t have one even if I want because of the extent of the damage.

I was in such a haze, that I went home with ‘Rowan’. Which really was just Weems dropping me off at the train to go home for the private funeral. I still can’t tell anyone. Rowan needed help, I knew that but my dad ignored me. He never cared much for Rowan as he thought he was weak. He focused on me because of the strength in my power and mental stability. I could be pushed and I will fight back but Rowan never really did. He was closer to my mother, for obvious reasons.

I tried to protect Rowan after she passed but he didn’t make it easy. I was surprised to hear he went after Wednesday, over some stupid thing our mother wrote. She might be right or she might be wrong, who knows.

“Y/n!” A voice catches my attention from across the empty Quad. I look up to see Xavier jogging over to where I’m sat on the side of the fountain. I had the rest of the day off since I arrived according to Weems. My father doesn’t know so it can’t hurt him.

“How are you? How’s Rowan?” He questions as he stops in front of me, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Now the hard part is, I’m an okay liar sometimes but my brother is my soft spot. “Good, we are good. He’s fine.” I shrug, oh god, I feel like I answered too fast.

“Oh okay.. good. He hasn’t been responding to my texts.” He mentions, I don’t know how to respond to that. Of course he’s worried about Rowan, they were roommates.

“Um, he’s kinda struggling with leaving Nevermore. He’s stuck with my dad and you know how he is.” I make up, Xavier and Rowan bonded a little bit. At least from what Rowan told me. Xavier’s dad is famous, travels everywhere except to see his son.

“Yeah, I get it. At least you were with him for awhile.” He says, “what’s this?” He gestures to my schedule. He raises and eyebrow, silently asking to see it as he extends his hand.

“My dad has me on this new schedule. Doesn’t want me to get too comfortable after what Rowan did. Now I’m visiting Jericho for a therapist, extra training after school and weekly updates. Weems wasn’t going to let him unless he let me pick an extracurricular that didn’t include telekinesis so now I have to switch that too as she deemed I need something fresh.” I show him, he takes the paper and scans it.

I watch the confusion cross his face before he quietly scoffs.

“This is kind of insane. But hey, why don’t you join the archery club? It’s got a pretty cool leader. I’m sure he will take it easy on you.” He cracks a smile. I roll my eyes but smile back as our eyes meet once again.

“I also hear he has a big head though so we will see.” I tease, pushing myself off the bench and standing up, “I’m leaving to see my new therapist in a few though. Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

He looks behind him where his class is down the hallway, “Yeah I’m supposed to be in the bathroom but then I saw you so.. I’ll see you at dinner yeah?” He questions, tilting his head at me.

A small smile crosses my face again, “Yeah I’ll be there. I missed all of you while I was gone. I really need a nightshades night soon.” Unlike my brother, I wasn’t kicked out. He grins, moving an arm over me as a side hug. He squeezes me against him with an arm around my shoulders.

“We missed you too.”

I lean my head on him for a second, enjoying the moment before shoving him away softly and saying “Go to the bathroom while I go get my private thoughts invaded.” He laughs but walks away, shaking his head at me.

——

It’s nice to be back and to see all of my friends again. Ajax slings an arm around me, hugging me quickly before Enid pulls me away into a strong hug.

“Oh I’m so glad your back! We won the Poe cup, I wish you could’ve been on our team. Yoko had a garlic bread accident but thankfully Wednesday stepped up.” Enid tells me, pulling me to sit down at the table where Ajax and Xavier are now sitting. She speaks so fast it takes me a second to comprehend it.

I glance at the boys, “Ooh it must burn.” I tease, Xavier rolling his eyes. I know how competitive he can be. “I wish I could’ve seen it. I always love the costumes.” I groan, “Im not too upset about not having to wear a catsuit though, doesn’t seem comfortable.” I shrug, resting my elbows on the table.

“Yeah you missed our costumes, they were awesome.” Ajax says, I grin at him.

“Honestly I didn’t see much of a difference. You two always look like jokers.” I can’t hold back my grin as I say it. Enid start laughing and I can’t hold mine back either.

“How long have you been holding that one in?” Xavier asks, though a smile peeks out and I shrug, calming down.

“Since I saw the pictures on instagram. Just be happy I didn’t comment it.” I tell him, causing him to roll his eyes. “You’re lucky I was gone because I know you, you’re competitive. I would’ve rubbed it in your face.” I remind him, waving my finger at him.

I watch him lick his lips and shake his head “if you were here they probably wouldn’t have won.” He shoots back, flicking my finger.

Ajax ooh’s while Enid protests, both of them arguing over it as Xavier and I lock eyes. There’s a sparkle of cockiness in his as I glare at him. But I can’t keep in the smile that crosses my face.

“I’m surprised you’re here acting so calm when you just lost your brother.” A calm controlled voice says behind me.

My eyebrows furrow as I turn to see Wednesday behind me. I’m speechless for a moment as Xavier speaks up, “Leave it alone Wednesday.”

“You need to drop this whole Rowan thing. It’s not funny anymore.” Enid tells her, standing up next to her. But Wednesdays eyes never leave mine.

Xavier comes around the table, standing next to where I’m still sat. “I think it’s time for me to go.” I say, standing up and I see them all look to me, confused.

“Why? Because you’re hiding your brothers death?” She questions, tilting her head as she squints her eyes.

I scoff, “No because Rowan already hurt you twice as he went sort of crazy once you got here and got expelled. I’d like to stay sane.” I retort, trying to remove myself from the situation.

“Just stay away from her Wednesday.” Xavier warns her as I begin to walk away. I can hear Enid telling her I just am worried about my brother but I tune out quickly once I realize Xavier had caught up to me.

“So.. wanna come to my room? It’s drama free.” He offers, as we walk under the covered walkway. I stop, looking back at the trio, where Wednesday is staring at me while Enid talks and Ajax looks like he wants to leave.

“Yeah, sure.” I take his offer and he extends his hand, which I take. It’s warm and surprisingly clean which is unusual. Not that he’s dirty. I’m just used to him behind covered in some sort of art substance.

He smiles down at me as he starts to guide me along.

——

Considering a part two? I’d love some feedback!

[whatgaviiformes]

Fic: Variegated

Summary: They shared a craft, but approached it differently. Crafty!FishTank

Characters: Gordon, Virgil

Words: 3,300

A/N: This is what happens when you start to explore what kind of crafters these two are. Let's be honest, I wrote this completely self-indulgently, but if for some reason this inspires you, 1) please enjoy the image of Gordon and Virgil with bags of yarn and 2) know there's absolutely no right way to craft. The most fun thing to do is to do what makes you happiest.

Single day write, so be warned.

I'll do an AO3 post eventually, but for now just for you, tumblr.

****

Variegated

“You know you want to.” 

“No, Gordon. Not right now.” His brother was incessant. Though they were busy finishing up a rescue, he wouldn’t leave Virgil alone about the strip of stores across the street from where they’d parked Two. International Rescue was known to occasionally take a detour to collect takeout after a mission, but it was not time to shop. They still had work to do, and Gordon was the worst distraction. 

They were finishing a rescue at a mall complex, which for entirely avoidable reasons had been about to collapse with two thousand occupants inside. The design flaw in its foundations frustrated Virgil to no end. The lack of safety protocols was enough to rival Fischler. Except there were tried and true blueprints for super structures like the one they’d just evacuated, so there was no excuse. Fischler was annoyingly careless; this was just deliberately built to be unsafe. 

Even though they’d saved all of the families inside, Virgil’s blood boiled knowing just how many people had been put in danger. And, for what! Nothing but a money-saver. 

Scott had been amazing coordinating with the local emergency services, while John and Eos had worked on comparing their scans of the building to the final designs that were filed, identifying the weak spots for them to secure. Gordon and Alan had made quick work of that at Virgil’s direction, and once the three of them were done they joined Scott for the evacuation efforts. The seals would only give them more time, not hold the building forever, so time was of the essence still. 

His brothers were awesome today. Yet, Virgil couldn’t find it in himself to be happy over the job well done. Not when people like that were still out in the world, making irresponsible decisions, making it just that much harder to be available for the unavoidable whims of the planet. 

“You know John’s going to find them, right?” Gordon slid up beside him, wiping his hands on a rag before wiggling his way into Virgil’s space at the pod controls. He selected the disassembly button, and turned towards him, knowingly. “I’d be surprised if their license isn’t already revoked.”

Virgil grunted, but it was swallowed all too quickly by the thundering shriek of metal as the building gave in to its final shudder. Onlookers were taking video in awe, shop owners whose wares were still inside were watching with fear and horror, emergency services were turned away to keep the crowd back but still jumped in surprise at the sound, and the International Rescue operatives observed solemnly from their positions at the inevitable. 

Virgil closed his eyes at the echo. No one had been hurt. 

“Al, do me a favor and go shadow Scott in One.” Gordon’s voice sounded like it was coming from underwater. 

“F-A-B.” Alan’s footsteps faded away quickly.

And they were alone. Not only that, but Virgil also realized, once he opened his eyes, that he felt the floor of Two’s cargo-pod under his backside. His legs must’ve given out on him. 

“Are you ok?” Gordon, sitting beside him with his arms extended behind him to prop himself up, nudged his shoulder lightly. “Talk to me, big guy.”

“Yes,” he said honestly. “I’m angry.” 

“I can tell.”

“People are terrible.”

“Oh, come on now, V. You know you don’t believe that.” His gaze was locked away from him, and Virgil followed it towards the crowd of people hugging each other after their ordeal and comforting the shop owners whose livelihoods had been devastated. 

He breathed deeply, feeling the dust settle in his heart as it fell towards the ground safely away from them. “No, I know,” he sighed. 

“I think we’ve both seen enough destruction for one day.” He hopped back onto his feet and offered Virgil a hand up. “What do you say?”

Virgil accepted it. “About what?”

Gordon waggled his eyebrows at him. “You know. Creating.” The blond pointed across the street towards the row of shops where patrons were starting to head back inside after the excitement outside. “I’ve been trying to get you to go with me, but you kept blowing me off. You know you need it.”  

He shook his head. They couldn’t just shop after a rescue. There was debrief; he needed to get the dust off his girl. “Gordon, I don’t think-”

“I need it too, Virg.” Gordon bounced on his feet. It was the lack of begging puppy-dog-eyes that convinced him of the sincerity, the sigh of relief when Gordon noticed Virgil’s expression soften. 

Twist my arm, he thought. The frown that had forged creased into his forehead eased as his smile lifted into a grin at his brother’s enthusiasm.  “Fine.” Virgil uncrossed his arms while Gordon whooped. “We can go to the yarn store.”

~*~

They drew everyone’s gaze when they entered, the little bell above the door chiming to herald their arrival. They still had the return journey ahead of them, so though they had washed up from the rescue, they changed back into one of their spare uniforms. Virgil was regretting that decision as the cashier’s eyes took in their iR blues, the baldrics that really had no sense being brought into a place of retail. 

“Maybe we should change,” he mused. It would’ve been more time changing back and forth, but for the sake of everyone’s comfort level, it might have been better off. John was the one that encouraged uniforms until everyone was home. That was the official end of any mission by his and Scott’s definition. No sooner. 

Virgil pulled at his collar from the scrutiny. But his little brother, unaffected in the slightest by the staring, bounded in and hadn’t heard Virgil’s discomfort. 

“Uh - Hi, how can I help you today?” One of the saleswomen asked, grabbing Gordon’s attention on the way towards the wall of variegated skeins. She’d gathered her composure quickly, Virgil had to give her that. Gordon eased the tension in the room with his most winning smile. Once the employees realized they weren’t there for danger reasons, they returned back to what they were doing before the two rescuers had entered. A few patrons were sat around a circular table working on their WIPs - works in progress. The man who had halted in caking up a skein for a customer slowly began winding again to rotate the wooden swift that held the threads of bright pink. Virgil felt their eyes watching them still though, the curiosity in the space so strong he could taste it. 

Gordon had long since abandoned him to discuss colorways with a sales person, so Virgil shifted on his feet and focused on taking in the display.

The store was sorted by yarn weight, brand, and then finally to Virgil’s great pleasure, color. The display itself evoked the threads of inspiration, of artwork that explored shades and spectrums. Where he’d been tightly swirling on the grays and metallics of unsafe structures, the array of blue-into-green-into-yellow and on, was just what he needed to loosen that coil around his mind. To dissipate the stress of his anger with the grand possibilities of color.

Art supplies always gave him the same boost of inspiration, but there was just something about the yarn store with its colors prominent that immersed him fully into his ideas. 

They’d been meaning to go anyway. That was one of the reasons Gordon had been so determined to drag him in here. Though they both needed supplies for their holiday gifts, the number of rescues had kept them both busy with no down time anticipated for a few more weeks. Of course, they had time until Christmas - but depending on the project, they would need most of that time. Often, Virgil started in the winter - months ahead - to prepare for Christmas summer. Gordon was a bit more rebellious with deadlines. 

At the back wall, he was holding up a speckled blue against a variegated orange. Gordon was a bit more rebellious about a lot of things. 

Virgil shook his head, and scanned the store for worsted weight, then approached, eyeing up the different greens that had caught his attention.   

He and Gordon had an arrangement when it came to homemade yarn gifts. Both were aware of their own inspirational whims, so it was nothing too organized or controlled. But if either of them had an idea for one of their family members, they would always share so as not to overlap their gifts too much during the season. And their family members saw how involved the homemade gifts were, so they didn’t press or make requests. Virgil was grateful their family members were so understanding and grateful. Last year, Virgil had made Kayo a cashmere scarf in a shimmery peridot that matched her eyes, and Gordon had made Alan a chevron pillow cover. 

He didn’t know yet what Gordon was planning for this year, or who for; this early on Gordon probably didn’t even know. Where Virgil planned in advance and had his patterns in mind when he went to the shop, Gordon would find a color that grabbed his attention first, then plan. 

This year, Virgil was far in his pattern design for a cable sweater for John. When out of uniform it could get cold up on Five, and even when he was home, his body temperature would fluctuate as part of readjusting to Earth. The length of his stay often made him prone to colds, so even though the Island was a bit on the warmer side, John gave Virgil an excuse to explore winter garments. 

With winter on the mind, he picked up and admired a dark gray that, upon closer inspection, danced with subtle blues and greens. It was stormy and evocative, and oh, so soft. Though Virgil felt it pull him into the depths of a lakeside forest, it wasn’t the kind of green he was looking for. He replaced it back on its hook.

If he admitted it, he’d been looking online at various greens for a while, though no holo screen would replace getting the chance to squeeze the fibers. 

“Gordon?” he called, looking around for his brother, a few hanks held close to his chest. He’d selected a scattering of greens he thought would be good for John’s sweater. One was a more olive green, similar to the peridot he’d gotten last year for Kayo just with more brown; one was a teal - maybe not as much John’s style with how bright it was, but it would match his eyes; and the last was a pine green with just enough blue undertone to complement the red of John’s hair. Though they were all the same weight they all were different brands. “Can you come feel these?” 

He knew which one he favored based on color alone, but he valued Gordon’s opinion. John was as sensitive to certain textures as Gordon. For John, it was due to how quickly he could bruise, and the softer the fabric the better, especially since the cables would make his piece more rigid by nature. For Gordon, certain types of cotton reminded him too much of the gritty texture of the blankets at the hospital. During that time, touch became the most important sensation to ground him, and those preferences he carried with him long after he’d healed. If Gordon was going to spend a length of time with a yarn, he wanted to enjoy the way it felt in his hands or else it wasn’t worth the suffering. 

“Gimme, gimme,” Gordon agreed. In the time that Virgil was comparing greens, Gordon had managed to procure and fill a shopping basket with an array of chaotic colorways which he slid into the crook of his arm while he reached for the options Virgil had found. 

The olive green was quickly set to the side once he squeezed at it, but the other two Gordon squished in each of his hands for a few moments to compare.

“What do you think?”

“The turquoise is softer,” - Virgil knew better than to correct him on the colors as he handed it back to him - “but you like this spruce-y green better for him, don’t you?” 

He did. It was a softer shade, and as soon as he saw it he knew just how dreamy it would look against the cable pattern he’d designed. Virgil nodded, “I was afraid of that. Is it it too rough, you think?” 

Gordon was looking away further down the wall, then grabbed his arm to pull him away from the display. Virgil barely had time to replace the olive green back on the wall, following with the teal while Gordon lifted the darker color against another display. “Can you adjust your pattern down to DK?” he asked, triumphantly pushing into his hands a skein only slightly darker than his preferred color, but in the brand of the softer yarn. 

“Yeah, of course.” The new yarn was soft against his fingertips. He was already mentally calculating the math involved, while the image in his mind immediately started to take shape with the new shade. “I’ll need more yarn.” 

Gordon flagged down the saleswoman he’d befriended earlier, then grabbed the teal from him to return the medium weights back where they found them. Gordon already had a much more complete picture of the store it seemed. The worsted weights must’ve kept his attention far longer than Virgil realized.

“Any chance you have a sweater quantity of this?” he inquired once the shopkeeper approached and asked how she could help. She smiled warmly at him, much more comfortable with their presence this time around. 

She took his selection away to look in the back at their stock.

“Wanna see what I found?” Gordon enthused while they waited. He led them to the table, nodding in greeting to the women at the table as they sat. One of them was crocheting up what looked like a granny stripe shawl with a color-changing yarn, and the other was knitting a baby-sized cardigan in a soft yellow. Both smiled at them, then turned back towards their projects. 

Gordon plopped the basket on the floor between them, and chose first a mostly purple colorway. But in true Gordon-fashion, the violet also had flashes of yellow and pink interspersed along the twisted hank. “I’ve got a few of these for a shawl for Grandma.”  

Virgil wiggled his finger between one of the strands, observing the way the colors fell. The purple wasn’t exactly solid either, and the yellow especially looked splashed in. It was definitely eye-catching in the display, but there was no way to imagine exactly what it would look like worked up, he admitted. 

“That’s the fun of it,” Gordon beamed, admiring the second skein of the color. 

“Are you going to knit or crochet it?” Virgil asked, handing the yarn back. He laughed fondly at just how much fun Gordon had with color, and in a way that was entirely different than his own style. Random would have driven him crazy, while Gordon thrived in the color journey. 

“Crochet. I think I’m going to lean into the granny of it all.” He nodded towards the woman making exactly that, who likely inspired the idea. 

 Gordon’s version of the shawl was going to look like chaos.

 Grandma was going to love it. 

“What’s this one?” Virgil leaned over to select a much more muted blue. There was only one of it in his basket. 

“It screams Scott, don’t you think?” The main tone was cobalt, heathered with gray. 

“What are you going to make with it?”

“Dunno yet,” he shrugged. “Something small. Fingerless mitts maybe. For the next time he goes spelunking in a radioactive mine.”

Virgil snorted. 

“Right.” It hadn’t been funny at the time; Scott would’ve been sick as a dog if not for Brains’ ingenuity. Still it hadn’t dissuaded him from wearing the fingers free version of their uniform. The idea was very Scott. Pleased, Gordon returned it to his basket. 

Virgil was nervous the shopkeeper hadn’t yet returned from the back. If they didn’t have the sweater quantity he needed, he probably could just order it. But now, with the excitement of finding the right yarn for his pattern, he desperately wanted to be able to bring it all home with him. 

Although he didn’t have a pattern in mind for anything else, Gordon sent him off to explore the fingering weight yarn anyway for the sake of keeping his mind busy. Virgil hadn’t had the chance to see the rest of the store the way Gordon had, and as he ambled from wall to wall, he saw a few of the colorways that had taken Gordon’s fancy. 

This was such a special hobby to share between the two. Although Virgil had learned yarn crafts early in his life, Gordon hadn’t picked up a crochet hook (or knitting needle) until he was an adult. There was a part of Virgil that would always feel a sense of pride in anything his brother created, knowing that he’d given him the bare bones to learn the craft. The rest had been him, and having the ability to create something had given Gordon a world of possibility when the colors of the world seemed muted and stalled. He made his own sunlight with golden yellow, covered white walls with rainbows.

The shopkeeper was successful at finding more of his yarn in the back, and she graciously offered to keep it behind the counter while they continued looking around the store. 

The subject of his thoughts himself had discovered the stickers among the notions at the front of the store, laughing fully at the puns that only really made sense to others in the craft. 

It had been a while since they’d made anything for each other, he realized. John’s sweater would have to be his primary focus, but in the moments of Gordon cackling, Virgil found himself inspired to capture his exuberance for him this season. Even if it meant working in a way that was outside his comfort zone. 

“Gordon!” He waved him over again. “Pick out a skein,” Virgil offered, gesturing towards the fingering weight. No matter Gordon’s selection, he’d be able to work out a sock pattern - and Gordon loved a good chaos sock or five.

“Ohh! Yes!” 

Unsurprisingly, Gordon returned quickly with a self-striping swirl of neon yellow with coral orange and soft cyan. Virgil tucked it under his arm, and once Gordon returned to the notions section, he also selected a complementary blue for the offsetting heel, toe, and cuff. 

Figuring they’d been at it long enough, Virgil finished up at check out and waited for Gordon by the front once all his yarns had been purchased and bagged up. The blond glanced up for him and practically skipped over to him to show him a sticker with a hen wearing a sweater. “It’s a yarn chicken!” 

“Yeah, you’re getting that,” Virgil demanded, taking it from his hand and placing it carefully in the shopping basket. As he did so, he noticed the stormy green he’d been eyeing for himself earlier, clashing with the purples of Grandma’s shawl-to-be. They’d had a similar idea, and Gordon, seeing him catch sight of it, tapped the side of nose purposefully. 

Virgil fielded Scott’s anxious call while Gordon finished purchasing his selections, exchanging his shopping basket for his own bag of yarn goodies.  The little bell rang as they left the building, and they walked back to the lot across the street where Thunderbird Two was parked amidst flashing sirens, caution tape, and collapsed metal. 

Gordon wiggled his way under his arm, beaming and bouncing. “Better, right?” 

Virgil ruffled his hair. “Yeah,” he admitted. “This whole thing is less under my skein.” 

A beat. Virgil grinned at himself.

“Oh my GOD, stop.” 

The End

End Note: I've written Virgil teaching Gordon yarn crafts in "In Stitches" if you are interested. Angst.

[starset21]

Standard Disclaimer: I only own my original characters, I've done some research but there will likely be Navy/military inaccuracies, and I do not consent to the posting, translating, or publishing of my work to any 3rd party site, the only place it may be found is on tumblr and Wattpad under @.itswildflower

A/N: This story is heavily inspired by the hallmark movie of the same title and is very self-indulgent. I'm also trying a different format than I'm used to using so it may change in the future chapters.

Looking for the other chapters? U.S.S. Christmas Masterlist 

Summary:  Kate agrees to go on the Christmas tiger cruise, will she run into the handsome aviator she met at the ball?

Chapter 2: Departure

“Picasso diner's two best customers, the Wells kids, Merry Christmas.” The siblings are greeted as they walk into the dinner they’d been going to since they were kids.

“Merry Christmas, Sharon,” Kate greeted.

“Your favorite table is available. Here you go,” Sharon handed them the menu’s.

“Thank you,” Jackson told her, offering a smile.

“So, Kate, I read that story this morning about the bank president. He's been in here. Seemed like a good guy,” Sharon lamented.

“Well. Goes to show you never really know what's going on with people,” Kate shrugged.

“That's for sure. And Jackson, I saw the photo that you posted of the Norfolk Christmas lights from your jet. That was absolutely stunning,” Sharon complimented.

“Oh, yeah, that was on my night hop last week,” Jackson told her. “As always, thank you for your service. So, the usual?” Sharon asked.

“Semi crispy bacon and hash browns.”

“And a Chocolate donut with coffee for me,” Jackson added.

“Last one. They went fast today,” Sharon told him before heading off to put in their order.

“You are so lucky,” Kate spoke up after a moment of comfortable silence.

“I know. I don't know what I'd do without my morning sugar fix,” he laughed.

“No, I mean, 'cause you love what you do,” she told him. 

“What about you, though? You've loved writing for as long as I can remember,” Jackson’s brow furrowed.

“Yeah. Yeah, I… It's just... I don't know, it's not as much fun as it used to be. Remember when I was in college and I wrote that article about the firefighter who adopted the baby, and it was dropped off at his fire station on Christmas Eve, and he named her Noel?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah, that was such a heartwarming story,” Jackson recalled.

“Now she's ten years old, she's a straight- "a" student, and she just played Mary in her Christmas play, I mean, that firefighter changed her entire life, and… Just wish I could write more stories like that. Especially around the holidays,” Kate told him.

“Yeah, I can understand that.”

Kate looked out the window at the people passing by and sighed. “Maybe I'm just burned out,” she lamented.

“But you had fun at the ball, right?” Jackson asked.

“Yeah, of course. Your fellow Navy people are very nice.” Kate looked at him.

“Did anyone, you know, catch your eye?” he questioned and Kate rolled her eyes.

“Jackson! You are relentless! No! Besides, I mean, come on, you remember what it was like. Every time you and Jordan deployed I was was so worried. I don't know, it's too much for me,” she told him.

“Yeah, but you guys didn't work out because your personalities didn't match,” Jackson pointed out.

“I just don't want to do the military thing. You remember how hard it was on mom,” Kate told him with some finality.

“Yeah, I know,” Jackson sighed. “You could use a break, Kate. Why don't you come on the Christmas tiger cruise?”

Kate shook her head. “No. I told you, I don't want to go, okay, and besides, I have work.”

Jackson deployed his puppy eyes. “The chill of the fresh sea air will help clear your head,” he tried.

“The chill of the air? You mean the freezing air,” Kate laughed. “And honestly, I don't even actually know if I could be away from my phone that long,” she added.

“Maybe that'd be a good thing,” Jackson laughed.

Kate’s phone buzzed several times. “Sorry, it's my boss. Apparently the bank president's brother has now been arrested,” Kate apologized.

“Look, think about it. No breaking news, no annoying texts from your boss. We'll be in the middle of nowhere,” he told her. “And you'll be without mom and me right before Christmas, which is your favorite time of year,” he tempted.

“Okay, now you're just playing hardball,” Kate sighed.

“Do it for us! Come on!” Jackson exclaimed.

“Ohh fine. I suppose I haven't taken even a fraction of my vacation time. So, sure. Yeah. Yeah, okay. I will go on the tiger cruise. I'll just tell Mr. Carmichael he has to deal,” Kate gave in and Jackson grinned.

“Yay! That's amazing!”

Kate put her head in her hands. “Ohh, it's gonna be freezing,” she lamented as Sharon came back with their food.

“Oh, wow, look!” Kate exclaimed as they walked up the ramp to board the ship.

“Oh! Your dad used to tell me that they decorated the ship for Christmas, but I had no idea it was this gorgeous,” her mother fawned.

“Hi, tigers! I'm Jackson, I'll be your cruise director,” her brother came over, dressed in his khaki uniform.

“Oh, get over here! Hey, honey,” their mother opened her arms for a hug.

“Hi,” Kate greeted him, bringing him in to a hug when their mother let him go.

“I'm so glad you came,” he tells her.

“So, where's my little fruity drink with the umbrella on it?” Kate teased.

“Would you be okay to settle for eggnog and a Christmas feast with all the trimmings?” Jackson asked.

“Wells family!”

The family turned to see Ron Kerner approaching them.

“Ron, Thank you so much for hosting us,” their mother greeted.

“It's an honor, Elizabeth. I'm so glad you changed your mind Kate,” he smiled at her.

“Thanks for making it happen.”

“Oh, here he is. Just the man I wanted you to meet. Lieutenant Jake Seresin. One of my finest f-18 pilots, and I don't say that just because he happens to be my son. Jake, this is Elizabeth and Kate. You remember, I served with Sam Wells,” Ron told him.

“Yes, of course!”

“I knew you when you were this high,” Elizabeth reminisced.

“Well, nice to see you again,” Jake told her mother before turning to Kate.

“And nice seeing you. Again. Didn't know our fathers flew together or that you're Wiz's sister,” Jake raised a brow.

“You two know each other?” Jackson, her mom and Ron all asked.

“We met at the Christmas ball,” Jake explained.

“The wine incident,” Kate whispered to Jackson.

“Would you guys like to join us for dinner tonight?” Ron asked.

“Yes, thanks! We'd love to!” her mom exclaimed.

“Great. I'll see you at 1800 hours,” Ron smiled before he and Jake walked away.

“Let's get you checked in, get you to your stateroom,” Jackson took the ladies bags and led them away.

“This is it. Watch your head,” Jackson told them as he led them over to his jet on the deck. Lt. Jackson Wells, "Wizard", was painted on the side of it.

“Someone figured out that dad’s callsign was Merlin and decided to tell, the crew decided to chose something close to it,” Jackson told them.

“Oh, honey, that is so sweet!” their mother cooed.

“Call signs aren't supposed to be sweet, mom. The other pilots choose 'em. But I got pretty lucky. They can call me Wiz any day. He's the whole reason I became a pilot,” Jackson smiled.

“Attention, tigers. The USS Polaris is now departing. Happy sailing, everyone!” The intercom clicked off. 

[lemon-boy-stan]

I posted 2,112 times in 2022

295 posts created (14%)

1,817 posts reblogged (86%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@femmescooter

@eirikursteilsson

@choiyeonjuns

@dqmeron

I tagged 1,080 of my posts in 2022

Only 49% of my posts had no tags

#madi's gallery - 167 posts

#my reason ♡ - 166 posts

#spn - 113 posts

#nct list - 88 posts

#madi's thoughts - 68 posts

#madi answers - 66 posts

#enhypen smut - 55 posts

#enhypen smau - 55 posts

#enhypen - 55 posts

#enhypen jay - 55 posts

Longest Tag: 62 characters

#hopefully this is a sign i will do well in my legal test today

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

"FRIENDS"

summary: no one told y/n life was gonna be this way - her housmates are trying to identify jay’s secret girflriend, but that's the least of her problems. all while this is happening, y/n and jay must maintain their relationship while hiding it from their friends and y/n’s older brother jake. genre: crack, fluff, smau. warnings: swearing, sexual references, bad jokes. pairing: park jongseong (jay) x female reader

schedule: updates every day. status: complete but uploading chapters to tumblr. a/n: send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or add yourself to the taglist here! date started: 071221. date finished: 260522

THIS IS BASED ON THE TV SHOW FRIENDS AND ITS CHARACTERS ROSS AND RACHEL.

listen to the playlist while you read!

See the full post

680 notes - Posted May 26, 2022

#4

Could you do a Steve Harrington request set during second half of his and the Henderson!reader’s senior year (aka after season 2) where he finds out she likes him when he asks to borrow her notes for a class without her realizing inside are notes between her and her best friend about her crush on him?

hiii anon! tysm for requesting this, it was so adorable i loved it so much! hope you like it 😌

“LOVE LETTERS”

summary: steve asks to borrow your notes for the lesson. you give them to him, forgetting about the messages you and your best friend jamie wrote about your feelings for a certain someone. genre: fluff, bit of angst if you squint. warnings: swearing? pairing: steve harrington x reader (sorry, i didn’t see the henderson part!) an: this request was so cute i loved it so much!

See the full post

696 notes - Posted July 9, 2022

#3

“ACCEPTANCE”

summary: you’d always felt guilty about dating regulus black, but after he calms you down from an anxiety attack, both you and your friends are able to accept it. genre: angst, fluff. warnings: anxiety, panic attack. pairing: regulus black x reader.

You'd already been nervous when presenting your History of Magic oral in front of the class, but with Professor Binns gliding around the room as you spoke, you felt even more nervous.

The entire class was talking. You'd tried to get their attention once before, but no one had heard you. Even your friends weren't really paying attention.

James was shamelessly flirting with Lily over two desks. Sirius had folded up an old sheet of parchment into the shape of an elephant and Remus bewitched it to walk across his table. The only person who was really paying attention to you was Regulus, but you guess it didn't really count because he was your boyfriend.

Professor Binns seemed to remember that you were at the front of the class - or maybe it had only just occured to him - but either way, he adressed the year level and they all shut up, although you didn't know if their attention was better or worse.

James grinned at you as Sirius gave you the thumbs-up. Remus smiled softly at you, but your throat still felt dry, but as you looked towards the back of the classroom, you spotted Regulus, tossing his dark curls back, laughing quietly at something his friend, Lucius Malfoy, had said. Almost instantly, your shaky breaths began to calm down.

Your relationship with Reggie was secret. His friends knew about it, but your friends didn't. It took a long time for his mates to accept you and your blood status (and sometimes they were still mean about it) but you knew it would take your friends a much longer time to understand, especially since Sirius was Regulus's older br -

"Y/N," said Binns, "any time you could start your speech would be good." the class laughed softly, and you knew it wasn't a mean kind of laughter, but all it did was make you more anxious. You sighed before exhaling shakily. "The giants' war began in the year 1765, and ended gruesomely with a large number of horrific casualties that even Muggles began to notice, however..." you stopped, your mind blanking out. You stared at your presentation cards to look for the rest of your speech, but finding, to your horror, that the text had ended. You shuffled through your other cards, but they were all different topics from where you had left off on the previous card, and your throat suddenly became all wobbly, like your skin was jelly. 

“Um,” you tried to remember what you’d written, but nothing was coming to mind - noting except for fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. “Um. Um. Even Muggles. Muggles began to notice the side effects of the Giants’ war, but they would classify the effects as natural things like earthquakes and tra - tremors. As earthquakes and tremors. They would...”

Someone in the class sighed loudly and rolled their eyes. Your breaths became shaking and suddenly you forgot how to speak, how to comprehend. Your heart was beating at a thousand miles per hour. You could see the class looking at you, but at the same time, you couldn’t see them at all. You were pretty sure that your hands were shaking. Your friends - James, Sirius, and Remus - must’ve noticed that something was wrong, because now they were here with you, at the front of the classroom, even though you heard Professor Binns telling them to return to their seats, and even though the whole class was staring.

Someone was talking to you, and it sounded like Remus. You could only just make out what he was saying as the lycantrhope whispered softly, taking your hands in his. “Y/N, sweetheart. I need you to breathe…” James and Sirius stood behind him and smiled encouragingly. Since Remus had anxiety himself, he always helped to calm you down the fastest, but somehow he just made things worse, because now you were crying, too.

“No,” you shook your head violently, tears spilling from your eyes, “I can’t. I can’t.” but Remus was both patient and persistent, although you weren’t sure if that was a good thing. “Yes, you can,” he said gently, “you can. Just breathe. Deep, slow, calm -” didn’t he know he wasn’t helping? “No,” you whined loudly, “I can’t. I can’t! I need - I need. Need y - you. Reg. Reggie.” you were pretty sure you sounded like a whining dog. Remus nodded encouragingly, “yeah, it’s me, Remmy.” 

You knew he was just trying to help, but his words just made you cry even more, because he had no idea what he was talking about. Why didn’t he understand? “No,” you kept shaking your head, maybe if you shook it he would understand. “No, nononononono. Reggie. Reggie. Want Reggie. REGULUS.” you finally got it out, but as you said his name it felt like you were swallowing knives. 

“What?” spat Sirius, glaring at you profusely, “what’re you talking about? Don’t you mean, Remus? Why would you want Regulus? What would you even want to do with Regulus -” but you kept crying, kept shaking your head, whispering your boyfriend’s name. You didn’t just want him, you needed him to pull you into his arms -

“Excuse me,” his voice broke the barrier that had been blocking out your friends and everything else in the classroom, “excuse me. I need to get to her, please. Move. Out of the way. Sirius! Move.'' After an excruciatingly long number of seconds, the boys shuffled to the side. Finally, finally Regulus was here. You knew that the class was staring, but didn’t care. You were just so relieved to hear him speak to you that you began to cry again.

“Shh,” Regulus wrapped his arms around you, crouching as he held you. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Can you look at me, dove? I just need you to look at me. It’s okay, dove, it’s okay, just take your time, alright? Don’t worry about it.” with each word your boyfriend spoke and every shape he drew on your back, your breaths began to calm down. You looked up slowly, your big orbs meeting his beautiful, dark eyes. 

You drowned in his gaze instantly before realising what had happened, and noticing that everyone was watching - not just watching, staring, uncomfortably, at the scene unfolding before them, the scene you had started just because you were an idiot.

And so you buried yourself into Regulus's robes and began crying again, but as silently as you could, because you knew people were watching. Regulus didn't care, though. He held you tight and close, soothing you as you cried. "It's okay, dove, it's okay. I've got you, alright? Can you breathe f'me? I just need you to breathe, dove. Yeah, exactly like that. You're doing so good, yn. Yeah, there you go. Shh, it's okay..."

After a while, you were finally breathing properly, and you had stopped crying, for real this time; you knew you weren't going to cry again, but you still kept yourself buried in Regulus's clothes as you steadied your breaths.

Once you'd returned back to your normal pace, you inhaled your boyfriend's scent like a drug before mumbling his name into his clothes loudly and looking up at him, "Reggie. Reg, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... to..."

Your Lip trembled but all Regulus did was shrug and smile softly, "it's okay, princess. You just got scared, but that's what I'm here for. Don't get upset about that, alright? I love you, dove. Then Regulus placed his lips softly on your forehead. You couldn’t help but smile  as you melted into him once again, whispering the words, “I love you, too, Reg,” back to him quietly.

Regulus lifted you up to take you back to your seat but stopped, Sirius was walking over to him awkwardly. You buried your head in the crook of your boyfriend’s neck, afraid of how his brother was going to react. Was he going to yell at the two of you? Was he going to demand that Regulus leave you? Would he -

“Thank you,” muttered Sirius quietly but sincerely, patting his brother’s shoulder stiffly before giving you a kind smile. You sighed in relief: this was the part that you were worried about the most, having Sirius accept your relationship. But now that Sirius approved of Regulus’s being your boyfriend, you finally felt comfortable letting Regulus console you in public. And as you sat on the desk next to him, one of his friends grinning and moving down a seat, you shrugged on Regulus’s Quidditch sweater, but you felt proud to be dating him, rather than guilty, and that calmed you down the most. 

See the full post

759 notes - Posted February 13, 2022

#2

“RIPTIDE”

pairing: steve harrington x reader. genre: angst, fluff. summary: yn follows steve into lover’s lake. steve gets angry at her and loses his shit. warnings: st s4 v1 spoilers. swearing. reader kind of hates nancy. a/n: the reader may hate nancy but pls i love her so much i wanna marry her!!

Eddie's boat shook violently on Lover's Lake, but you didn't care. You saw the look on Steve's face, and panic began to settle in your mind.

"Don't be a fucking idiot," the words left your throat before you could filter them. "You're not going down there, you dumb fuck. Nope. Nope. No. No. Nope." and you shook your head.

Steve ignored you. "Okay. I'm gonna go down there, unless any of you guys were on the swim team or did lifeguard training. No arguing." Steve didn't even look at you before diving.

At first, all you did was stare: at the rippling water, the rippling water that was rippling because your best friend had dived in, making the water ripple. 

And then you thought, that was a lot of rippling. 

And then, fuck. He’s in there. How long’s it been? How long had it been until the water stopped rippling, until the water un-rippled, until it stilled? He was still in there, fuck. Steve was still in the water. He was still in the water! Fuck, fuck, fuck.

And you were positive that your friends thought that too. Eddie, because he looked nervous, or maybe because he was nervous about everything else. Robin, who turned to Nancy frantically, “hey, Nance. How long has he been in the water?” speaking your mind for you. 

Nancy looked down at her watch, and although you didn’t like her, you thanked god that she had a watch. “Around a minute,” said Nancy calmly, "he’s only been in the water for a minute. He’ll be okay.” it sounded like she was trying to assure herself, and you remembered that you hated her.

You didn’t believe her, either. You didn’t believe her at all. Not just because you hated her. But because you knew Steve, and you knew how stupid he was. Hell, he was the dumbest fuck you’d met in your life. He couldn’t tell his ass from his head. There was a very, very high chance that Steve swam too low, went under for too long -

“Hey guys.” the water rippled again, louder than ever. The four of you in the boat jumped. Robin and Eddie swore loudly. But you didn’t say anything, running over towards the edge of the boat. If you said anything, you were afraid you might cry in front of stupid Nancy Drew.

Steve grinned, “I found the portal.” but it wasn’t like his words were announcing anything good. His words didn’t comfort you like they usually did. Now, they brought tears to your eyes, like they rarely did.

“Steve,” you put your hand on the edge of the boat to balance yourself, but Steve took your hand in his. For a while, it stopped shaking, and it was only the water that was rippling. Steve smiled gently, “hey. Hey, I’m okay. There’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine. Just stay here, okay? Stay here. I’ve found the portal, and now -”

But before he could finish, Steve fell. Something pulled him down, under the current, tearing him away from your grasp, tearing a scream from your mouth. It was like the horror and fear of loosing your best friend was prying your eyes open, filling them with tears as you stared at the again-rippling water.

Someone grabbed your shoulders. You screamed again, whipping your head around. "Let me go! Let me go!", but they Wouldn't let go. They only let go once you started breathing properly, once you realised who had grabbed your shoulders.

Nancy watched the water fervently. Fuck you, Nancy Wheeler, fuck you! "Y/N, we can't go in yet," said Robin, her voice only a little shaky, "We need to come up with a plan."

"Okay," you nodded slowly, "okay." you backed away, closer to the edge of the boat. "Alright, we'll come up with a plan." and you span, the fastest you'd ever spun on your heel, ripping off Steve's warm, denim jumper, ignoring the rest of your friends' cries, diving down into Lover's Lake.

It was dark and murky in the lake, though you weren't sure if it was the light or your eyes. You kicked hard against the water, pushing through the tide. You weren't going to let your clothes weigh you down, not if you were going to find Steve. You couldn't.

And that's when you saw it, beneath a bone pile of coral. A flashing red light, glowing blue at the edges. The portal.

You knew it was humanly impossible, but you swam harder, forcing your breath back inside your lungs. You kicked and kicked, like there was something chasing you, because, let's face it, there probably was.

But then your body began to give out. You could already feel the colour draining from your face. You weren't trained like Steve. There was no way you were going to make it. You were probably going to die in here.

And then you fell.

You fell down, or at least you thought you were falling down. You tumbled upwards, away from Lover's Lake, away from Eddie and Nancy and Robin and Steve, into... oh, fuck.

It was oblivion. Dark blue and blood red oblivion, lonely, silent, screaming Hawkins. And you were lost. Alone in it, the oblivion.

And that's when you heard it. His voice, confused, troubled, angry? "Y/N." your breath hitched in your throat. You turned around and ran over, but Steve didn't hug you. He didn't even smile. Instead, he threw his arms up in the air frustratedly....

"I told you to stay there!" the rage was laced into every syllable of every word. He flung his arms back down. "Dammit, Y/N!" his voice roared throughout the cavern. "Can't you just goddamn listen for once! Look, I get that you want to be feministic or whatever and I'm all for that, but this is LIFE OR DEATH!"

You whispered his name in an utmost level of quiet, "Steve." worried about the gashing cut on his chest. "Steve, you -" but he wasn't having it. He threw his arms up again, "Y/N, I don't care! I don't care that you wanted to be the hero, okay? Because what if -" and he drew a harsh, shaky breath, "what if you played the hero and you got yourself killed? What are you gonna say when you're dead and I don't have you anymore, when it's practically my fault that I don't have you anymore, because you were a dumb fuck and went and got yourself killed before I could ever say -"

But you didn't let him finish. As the invisible, normal, nonupsidedownian Hawkins water rippled around you, you knew you weren't ever going to let him finish, because you'd always know what he was going to say a million times before he said it. And you knew, right then and there, exactly what he was going to say in the heated anger of the moment. And you knew he would always and forever be yours.

Yours. Not Nancy's, not Robin's before he knew, not Katy's or Izzie's or Rebecca's or Olive's. He was yours now. Forever and always yours, as you knew you were his, and as he kissed you and then pulled away and said, "I love you," as he leaned forward again and kissed you a second time and when he pulled away again and said, "I'm sorry," the first time, you knew he was yours, even as Robin threw her arms up in the air.

See the full post

835 notes - Posted July 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

steve harrington nsfw headcanons

please call him stevie. it's basically his equivalent of a daddy kink

he especially loves it when you whine it.

"please, stevie, please"

god, he fucking gets off to that.

has a huge size kink

he loves how small you are.

"stevie, you're so big"

"no baby, you're just that small"

hates exhibitionism

it grosses him out

so no public or work sex

massive breeding kink

"are you gonna be good for me, baby? gonna fuck all six of my kids into you."

loves it when you whine or beg

"come on baby, say please."

"show me how much you wanna cum."

prefers you to sit on his face rather than him eating you out but doesn't really care either way

lazy sex and romantic sex

he's so sloppy, ngl

and really cock too

but he's so sweet during sex gahh

he can also be really rough.

like, we're talking, breaks-the-bed-on-accident rough

"STEVE!"

"SHIT!"

"oh come on baby, you can take it. come on. one more. just cream all over my cock. just like that."

"just a bit more, baby, be good for me."

steve doesn't like sharing you, not even with people he trusts

he just thinks it's kind of gross

See the full post

1,720 notes - Posted July 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[phantasticworks]

every kiss is a cursive line

Hello! I wrote this/posted it to ao3 back in September but I haven't had access to this tumblr (or a laptop, thanks Santa) since July, so I wanted to post it here now that I can!

read on ao3

Summary: iydlmp Dan and Phil through the trials of tribulations it takes to plan a wedding... and the wedding itself (sort of).

Word Count: 25.6k

Warnings: swearing, slight angst

June

Wedding planning… is a lot.

Like, a lot.

Dan never really put much thought into just how much work goes into it before he got engaged and had to start planning his own, but there’s just so much to do. And it seems never-ending; with every decision made there’s always at least three more that pop up right behind it.

So to say that he and Phil are exhausted is an incredible understatement.

“If I have to look at one more fucking flower,” Dan threatens solemnly as he all but slams the car door shut, turning the car on with jerky, angry movements.

Phil snorts as he snaps his seatbelt on. “Thank god Levi and Charlotte agreed to babysit today, I think we’d have a whole swear jar full by now.”

Dan huffs as he pulls out of the lot of the third florist shop they’ve visited today. “This is the worst,” he says, ignoring Phil’s remark entirely. “Like, in theory I knew that of course it would be a lot of work, but this is absolutely madness.”

“Told you we should’ve started planning sooner,” Phil says, rolling down his window as Dan merges onto the motorway. It’s a nice breeze, even as hot as it is outside, and Dan takes a moment to breathe and calm down before he replies.

“Yes, but we picked October because we knew that we would have more time to plan this summer,” he reminds his fiancé for what feels like the thousandth time.

“Yeah,” Phil says with no particular inflection in his voice. It still manages to grate on Dan’s nerves, however.

“You-“ he starts, his voice sharp. Phil looks at him, and he looks so exhausted, just like Dan feels, and that’s enough to make all the fight drain out of him. “Where did we need to go next?” He asks instead.

Phil lets out what sounds like a breath of relief, and Dan really wants to be hurt by that, but he’s not. “Home, I reckon.”

Dan turns to him with a start, and he can feel a frown tugging at his lips. “No, I thought we still had to go-“

“Hon, we’re both exhausted and frustrated,” Phil says, putting up a hand when Dan tries to argue. “I think we can call it a day. Maybe we’ll do some more shopping or planning online later. But honestly…” he sighs, pushing his glasses up to rub at his eyes. “Honestly I just want to go home and snuggle with you and the kids.”

As usual, Dan can’t deny a request like that.

“Yeah. Okay, yeah. We’ll go home.” He reaches across the console, hesitantly brushing his hand against Phil’s. Luckily, Phil doesn’t seem to mind, turning his hand over and lacing their fingers together immediately. “I’m sorry I’m grumpy,” Dan adds for good measure, sneaking a look at Phil’s face.

Phil smiles, squeezing Dan’s hand. “It’s okay,” Phil says. “I know you’re just stressed about everything.”

Dan nods, chewing his lip in contemplation. “You know I’m only stressed because I want this to be the best day for us, right?”

“Yeah,” Phil nods, but something in his voice is doubtful.

Dan squeezes his hand and risks another look away from the road to gauge Phil’s response. “I’m serious. I don’t care about anything else. I don’t care what kind of flowers we have, or what the color scheme is, or the fucking cake. That’s going to be our day, yeah? So all I care about is that we have the best fucking day.”

Phil laughs a little, but squeezes Dan’s hand again, his other hand coming up to stroke Dan’s knuckles. “Yeah. That’s what I want, too.”

“Perfect,” Dan says with a breath of relief. “So no more stressing about silly things, alright?”

“Okay,” Phil replies after a moment. “But can I just make one request?”

“Of course,” Dan replies. “It’s your wedding too.”

Phil hesitates. Dan strokes his thumb over Phil’s wrist gently, and this must comfort him enough to come out and say it. “Can we maybe talk to a wedding planner? At least a consultation?”

Dan’s first reaction is to recoil from the suggestion, the control freak within him hurt by the very insinuation that he couldn’t plan it all himself. But it has been stressful, and his mood swings have been harder on Phil than anyone. So he puts that part of him aside and agrees to look for a wedding planner to consult with.

“Thank you,” Phil breathes. He sounds so relieved that Dan feels a genuine pang of guilt.

“Of course,” he says again. “But if they suck, we don’t have to keep them, deal?”

Phil presses a long kiss to the back of Dan’s hand. “Deal.”

~~~

July

“How’s about a chapel?” Lauren, their well-intended but irritating new wedding planner asks in her nasally voice. She’d come with decent reviews, but her real selling point is that she was one of the only event planners in this part of the country that wasn’t completely booked for the next three months.

Dan is starting to see why.

“A chapel,” he deadpans.

Lauren nods, her stupid blonde ponytail swinging with the motion. “Mhm! There are several chapels in the area who have availabilities in October, as per your request, and-“

“We’re gay,” Dan interrupts. Phil nudges him to stop talking, but honestly, Dan is so over all of it at this point. “We’re very obviously gay and you want us to get married in a chapel?” Dan continues, sarcasm wrapping around the word like a curse.

“Dan,” Phil warns under his breath.

Lauren’s cheerful demeanor slips away a bit, and she looks a little uncomfortable. Dan is unfortunately too agitated to care. “Well… it was just a suggestion, of course. You don’t have to-“

“No,” Dan says immediately. “No, we’re not getting married in a chapel.” His tone is clipped and honestly rude, and he’s fully expecting it when there’s a sharp jab to his ankle.

“Daniel,” Phil hisses. Dan doesn’t even look at him. Phil sighs, and Dan can imagine the apologetic look on his face as he speaks to the trash wedding planner. “I am so sorry. Can we have a few moments?”

“Of course,” Lauren says, her tone slightly less bright than normal. “Take all the time you need, I’ll just pop inside for another drink. Would either of you like anything?”

“No, thanks,” Phil replies on behalf of the two of them.

Dan watches as Lauren nods, gives him a nervous look, then disappears into the cafe they’d agreed to meet at today. It’s nice enough, and it’s close enough to their realtor’s office, where they’ve spent most of the morning signing papers, working on closing on their first home. Dan tries to allow himself to daydream about a house that’s really theirs, but of course Phil doesn’t give him the chance.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Phil hisses as soon as the door shuts behind Lauren.

Dan takes a leisurely sip of his coffee, pretending like his hand isn’t shaking as he does. “Nothing,” he says stubbornly.

“Bullshit,” Phil says immediately. “You’re being a dick. You’ve been acting like this ever since we got here.”

“I haven’t,” Dan lies.

Phil makes a strangled sound of frustration, and Dan glares at the hetero couple that looks their way.

“Listen,” Phil starts. “You said you’d try. I know the first meeting with her didn’t go great, but she’s the only one with the space in her schedule to help us, and-“

“Didn’t go great?” Dan parrots, his voice edging on disbelief as he finally turns to face Phil head-on. “She asked if we were brothers! She thought I was helping you plan a wedding to a woman!”

Phil clenches his jaw. “She already apologized for that,” he says evenly.

Dan scoffs. “She’s a stranger, Phil. I don’t have to forgive her for being homophobic.”

“She’s not- ugh!” Phil groans, throwing his hands up to cover his eyes. He rubs them harshly, and Dan almost says something about his contacts, but bites his tongue. Phil is quiet for so long that Dan is starting to think maybe he did blind himself and is too pissed at Dan to admit he needs help, but when Phil speaks, it’s like Dan’s heart drops to his feet. “Do you even want to marry me?”

“I…” Dan stutters, so startled by the suddenness of the question. He’s startled all over again when Phil drops his hands, turning to stare at Dan with a hard gaze. “Of course I do.”

“I’m serious,” Phil says, ignoring him. “Is this what you want? Because the last few weeks… I’m not gonna lie, mate, I don’t think we’ve been treating each other how two people who want to be married should be treating each other.”

Dan isn’t sure which part of that hurts the most. The “mate” where he’d usually hear a “babe,” or the fact that Phil feels like this.

“Phil, I…” Dan stops. He realizes that this isn’t the place for this conversation, not when their half-wit wedding planner is hovering by the door to the cafe, clearly pretending to be busy while she waits for some sign that the coast is clear. “I want to go home,” he says quietly.

Phil sighs. “Dan, if you don’t want to go through with it, just tell me now so-“

“I do,” Dan interrupts quickly. “I do. But I want to talk about it… at home. Is that okay?”

It’s probably the softest tone he’s taken when speaking to Phil in like a week, and something about that seems to soften Phil as well.

“Okay,” he says finally. “Let me go talk to Lauren, and then we can go.”

“Alright,” Dan says. “Will you tell her I’m sorry?”

Phil looks like he’s about to argue, probably tell Dan that he should do it himself, but something stops him. He nods instead, handing Dan their wedding planning binder and gesturing to the car. “You can go ahead, I’ll just be a minute.”

Dan nods, and as soon as he’s out of earshot, he pulls his phone out, finding a familiar number in his contacts. He’s got a half-formed plan in mind about what he can do to fix this, and part one starts as soon as the call connects.

“Hey, Dan.”

“Hey, Martyn. Can you and Corn do me a really huge favor?”

~~~

“Uh, what’s going on here?” Phil asks as soon as he steps into their flat. The kids are waiting at the bottom of the staircase, each of them with a backpack over their shoulders. “Dan?” Phil says, turning around to give him a look of confusion. 

Dan gives him a little smile, reaching out and tentatively squeezing Phil’s hip. “I asked your brother if they could watch them for the night.” 

“What- Dan-” Phil starts, and Dan can tell that he’s got a protest right on the tip of his tongue. Luckily, their daughter comes to his rescue. 

“Dad, Uncle Martyn said that when he picks us up he’s gonna take us to get ice cream with Evan and then we’re gonna watch a movie at their house! And- and did you know that Auntie Cornelia got us some blankets ‘special for us to sleep over?” Amelia is talking so fast that her words are running together a bit, but Dan watches a fond smile spread on Phil’s face at her excitement. 

“Wow, darling, I didn’t know any of that,” he says, giving Dan a sideways look. “Did you all want to go to stay with Uncle Martyn?” Phil asks, looking over and meeting Levi’s eyes. 

Levi shrugs, but nods. “Martyn is teaching me how to play a new song, so…” He gestures pointlessly to his guitar case propped next to the door, and that seems to be enough for Phil. 

“Well, alright. As long as you’re all sure,” Phil says, looking at Dan with another look in his eyes like we’ll talk about this later. Dan secretly, selfishly, hopes that he can distract Phil from that with what he’s got planned. 

“What are you guys gonna do tonight?” Levi asks, sounding curious. 

Dan hopes the look on his face doesn’t look too sketchy, but just in case, he turns away, going to put their wedding planning stuff in the kitchen, where they’ll inevitably end up looking over it again later. “Oh, not much, probably just wedding planning stuff.” 

He hears the smirk in Levi’s voice when he says, “so is that why you asked Martyn to take us for the whole night?” 

Thankfully, Dan is saved from the embarrassment of answering that question when they hear a chime, indicating Martyn is there to pick up the kids. “Just in time!” Dan says, aptly changing the subject as he goes to buzz him into the building. 

“Alright, guys, remember to be on your best behavior tonight, okay? Mind Martyn and Cornelia, and do as they say. And if for any reason you want to come home, you just call us, alright?” Phil says, crouching in front of the kids. 

The kids let out a chorus of agreements, and then Phil holds his arms out for hugs, which the twins are very quick to give him. “Love you guys,” he mumbles, pressing kisses to their hair. 

“Love you, Dad,” they reply, almost in sync. 

There’s a knock at the door then, and Dan’s quick to open it, smiling gratefully at Martyn and Evan. “Hi,” he says, gesturing for them to come in. “Thanks again, for doing this,” he says quietly to Martyn. 

Martyn shrugs, slapping Dan on the back with an easy grin. “No problem, mate. You two going to have a date night?” He asks, waggling his eyebrows. 

Dan snorts. “More like a saving-our-wedding night,” he says weakly. 

At this, Martyn’s lips twist down into a frown, and Dan curses himself for saying anything. “Everything alright?” He asks quietly, glancing at where Phil is checking that the kids have everything they need for an overnight trip in their bags. 

“Yeah. Maybe. We’ll see,” Dan says with a shrug. 

Martyn squeezes his shoulder in what seems to be sympathy or support, and Dan tries not to feel like he’s being pitied. Luckily, the twins pass their inspections and rush over to give Dan a hug goodbye. 

“Be good, okay? I love you guys. If you don’t pass out during the movie, try to call me before bed so Dad and I can tell you goodnight, yeah?” Dan hugs each of them, peppering kisses over their foreheads, despite their protests. 

“Okay,” Jaiden agrees. “Love you, Daddy,” he says it like an afterthought before moving over to talk to Evan about a video game they’re going to play together. 

Amelia gives Dan a long look when she pulls away from him. “Will you and Dad be okay by yourselves?” she asks, sounding very concerned. 

Dan can’t help the surprised laughter that spills out of his mouth when she says it, but he schools his expression when he sees how serious her face is. “Yeah, sweetheart, Dad and I will be fine, I promise.” 

She seems skeptical, but nods. “You can borrow one of my plushies if you get scared by yourself, okay, Daddy?” It’s the sweetest offer, and Dan’s heart practically melts. 

“Sure, honey. Don’t forget to brush your teeth tonight, okay?” he says, glancing over at Jaiden to make sure the message is received. 

They both nod, distracted with their conversation with Evan and their sleepover adventure. Dan turns at the sound of footsteps, and Levi is stood there with Phil, who is carrying his guitar case with a nervous look on his face. 

“Martyn, are you sure this is okay? I didn’t know that Dan called, and-” Phil starts, his empty hand twisting nervously in his pocket. 

“Relax, mate. Corny was thrilled when Dan called, she’s been dying for a big sleepover with all the kids. And you know I love spending time with the neblings,” he says with a grin, ruffling Jaiden’s hair playfully. 

Phil sighs, but relaxes. “Okay, as long as you’re sure. But if anything happens-” 

“I’ll call you as soon as I call the fire brigade,” Martyn says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Dan hides a grin. 

“Not funny,” Phil says, shaking his head. “And you’re sure you’ve got everything you need?” Phil says, turning to speak to Levi. 

“Yep. I’m all set,” he says, making eye contact with Dan over Phil’s shoulder, giving him a look that screams help me. 

“Alright, babe, they’re fine. You guys make sure to call or text and let us know if you need anything, alright?” Dan says to the kids, who give him various agreements. The twins are bouncing on their feet, ready to go, and Levi reaches out for his guitar like he’s probably feeling the same. 

Martyn, bless him, picks up on this and jingles his keys, catching their attention. “Alright, ready to hit the road, everyone?” 

Of course, the kids chorus their agreement, giving one last round of hugs and goodbyes before following Martyn out the door, promising to call later that night before bed. 

In the silence that follows, Dan wonders if maybe this wasn’t his best idea.

“You called my brother,” Phil says. It’s not a question.

Dan turns to look at him, his shoulders crowding his ears as he prepares for the coming argument or fight. “I did,” he says softly, spinning his engagement ring around his finger nervously.

“And you asked him to watch the kids, without even asking me?” Phil sounds hurt, not angry like Dan was expecting.

“Um… Yes,” Dan admits. “But I kind of did it, like, to surprise you.”

“To surprise me?” Phil says, sounding disbelieving.

“Yeah, I thought-”

“Well I’m definitely surprised when my fiance makes decisions about our children without even trying to consult with me first,” Phil snaps.

There’s the anger.

Dan takes a deep breath. “Can we go talk about this in our room?” He asks in a timid voice.

He’s expecting some sort of argument about why they should fight in the foyer, a neutral place, but Phil sighs and nods, gesturing for Dan to lead the way.

Somehow that makes Dan more nervous than the shouting.

He leads Phil into their room, aching to touch him, to seek out some sort of comfort. He knows realistically that it isn’t fair, that Phil doesn’t owe him that right now. But that doesn’t stop him from crawling onto the bed, turning around and tugging Phil forward by his belt loops. Dan’s expecting Phil to follow, so he’s a little surprised when he resists.

“What are you doing?” Phil asks, with an unreadable expression on his face.

“I just…” Dan trails off, unsure. “I thought maybe we could…”

Phil snorts once, no humor to be detected in his body language. “Maybe we could what? Fuck away our problems?” Dan cringes. “Sex doesn’t fix everything, Dan.”

Dan flushes with embarrassment at that. “I know that, I just-“ he tries.

“Just what?” Phil nearly shouts. Dan flinches. “Just want to avoid another uncomfortable conversation about our future? Just want one last fuck before you tell me you don’t want to get married after all? Because I’ll be honest, Dan, that’s what it looks like from here.”

Dan doesn’t realize he’s crying until he looks down and his hands are splattered with tears. He takes a couple breaths, trying to calm himself down a bit before trying to speak. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice small. “That wasn’t- that’s not what I meant. I just… just wanted to feel close to you, I guess.”

There’s a long beat of silence, and then Phil sighs. He moves to sit at the end of the bed, well out of Dan’s reach, and that hurts. “I don’t want to. I’m sorry, but right now I just- I need space.”

And that really fucking hurts.

“Oh,” Dan sniffles. “Okay.”

Phil meets his gaze, and his face crumbles when he sees that Dan’s crying. He reaches a hand out, just a little, but brings it back to his lap instead. “We still need to talk about this,” he says, his voice sounding apologetic. “But I think we both need space to think about what we want.”

“I thought… I thought you wanted to marry me,” Dan says in a near-whisper.

Phil studies him carefully. “I do,” he says, his voice steady and certain. “But I don’t think that’s what you want.”

“It is,” Dan protests immediately. And he knows, without a doubt, that it’s true.

“Okay,” Phil says, his tone disbelieving. “But something is clearly not working here. So I think maybe… maybe we should take some time to think about it, yeah?”

Dan can feel himself crying harder, can feel his chest burn as it struggles to catch a calming breath. “Please don’t leave me,” he gasps out, his voice thick.

Phil makes a choked noise, and Dan barely has time to process it before Phil is wrapping him up in his arms. “I would never,” he whispers. “Even if we decide not to get married. I’ll never leave you.”

“But… you want to be married to me?” He means to phrase it with a little more confidence, but it comes out as a question.

“I do,” Phil replies. “And it’ll take me some time to get over it if we don’t. But, right now… I don’t know, Dan. I just, I don’t know.”

Dan sniffles against his collar, and Phil gently pulls out of his grasp. “I think I’m going to go do some work in the office for a little while, alright?” Phil says, clearly his attempt at a quick escape.

“Okay,” Dan mumbles, pulling his knees to his chest, hugging himself in the absence of Phil’s warmth.

Phil climbs off the bed, and looks at Dan like he wants to say something but isn’t quite sure what it should be. He shakes his head silently before leaving the room, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

So much for Dan’s great idea to fix everything.

~~~

A few hours pass with Dan crying and staring at his bedroom ceiling, but eventually he sneaks into the kitchen to figure out some dinner. Luckily, Phil is nowhere to be found. It’s never really something Dan’s been grateful for before, so this is an entirely new experience for him. He tries not to think about it too hard as he makes two servings of toast, slathering on Phil’s favorite spreads, almost on autopilot.

He’s a little afraid to risk another confrontation, but the flat has been dead silent since their argument earlier, and Dan knows it’ll just get worse if Phil doesn’t eat. So he quietly plates up the toast and grabs two bottles of water before making his way to the office, knocking quietly on the door.

“Yeah?” Phil’s voice calls out. It sounds rough, like he’s been crying, and Dan’s heart constricts.

“Brought you some food,” Dan says softly.

It takes a second, but the door slides open, and Phil’s stood there, messy hair and red-rimmed eyes watching Dan with a hesitant look. “Oh,” Phil says, glancing down at the plate, a brief flash of joy in his eyes before they meet Dan’s again. “Thank you,” he says politely.

Dan shuffles on his feet awkwardly. He’s never felt like this with Phil, not like this. “Can I… can we eat together?” He asks. The question feels stupid tripping out of his mouth.

“Of course,” Phil says softly. He steps back so Dan can come into the office, moving to sit in the computer chair while Dan moves to the armchair beside the desk.

They nibble on their toast in silence for a few minutes, but it’s the most tense silence Dan has ever experienced. “Did you get some work done?” He asks to fill the quiet, glancing at the computer screen.

He’s just barely managed to read the words in the search bar before Phil is closing out of the tab altogether.

Alternatives to weddings

“Not much,” Phil says lightly, not meeting Dan’s eyes.

On a normal day, under different circumstances, Dan would push.

Tonight, he lets it go.

“Quiet without the kids here,” he remarks softly. He doesn’t want to fight about it again, but he can’t ignore the elephant in the room forever.

Phil glances at him sharply, but nods. “It is. I…” he starts, stops, then shakes his head.

“What?” Dan prompts gently.

Phil’s quiet for a moment, but finally he says, “did you know we were going to fight tonight? Is that why you asked Martyn to watch them?”

Dan squirms uncomfortably, because yeah, it was part of his reason. The other part was that he was counting on solving their issues and maybe celebrating with a more intimate activity, one he didn’t exactly want their children to be privy to. “I thought it was a possibility,” he admits after a few minutes.

“Oh,” Phil says. He nods, and it seems like maybe he’s settled some more. “Then, thank you. I’m glad you thought to protect them from witnessing that.”

“You’re… you’re welcome?” Dan says, and he can tell it comes out like a question.

Phil shakes his head, taking a long sip of water. “No, I know you didn’t do it for me. Just… I’m just proud of you because you’re a good dad.”

Dan can’t help the way his heart flutters with the compliment. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

There’s another moment of quiet, only broken by the sound of them munching on the crunchy toast. It’s good, although it is kind of a crappy dinner, all things considered.

“I should’ve ordered takeout or something,” Dan says, really just to interrupt the incessant quiet.

Phil gives him a little smile. “I’m okay with toast,” he says with a shrug. He’s nibbling on his last crust, and Dan watches him with a burning fondness in his chest as crumbs collect all over the tshirt he’s wearing. He looks a mess, all things considered, but Dan’s heart does some sort of weird flippy-over thing in his chest every time he looks at him.

“I’m sorry,” Dan blurts.

Phil blinks at him, his final bite of toast shoved in his mouth. “Mmf?” He tries to speak around the food, and Dan wrinkles his nose. He waits, not elaborating while Phil necks the rest of his water, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand inelegantly. “For what?” Phil says after clearing his throat.

Dan looks down at his abandoned slice of toast, scratching at the crust and watching a couple crumbs fall away. “For being a shit fiancé. And a shit person. And-“

“Dan,” Phil says firmly. When Dan finally makes eye contact, Phil rolls his chair close to Dan’s, resting his hands on Dan’s knees gently. “Honey, you’re none of those things.”

“I am, though,” Dan interrupts. “Especially lately. I’ve been a proper fucking bridezilla. And like… you deserve better than that.”

Phil squeezes his knees gently. “You’ve been stressed, and-“

“So have you, and you haven’t been a cunt about it like I have,” Dan mutters glumly.

Phil pinches his thigh before speaking like Dan hadn’t even said anything. “You’ve been stressed. Not to mention your new medicine has been messing with your moods. And I don’t hold your mood swings and mental illness against you, not ever.”

It’s ridiculous, but Dan can feel his eyes prick with heat at that. “Can I hug you?” He asks, choked up.

Instead of answering, Phil moves to sit in Dan’s lap, wrapping his arms around his shoulders tightly while Dan’s arms go around his waist. “Shh,” he says gently, petting at Dan’s hair and shoulders in comforting sweeps.

“I love you,” Dan tells him through his embarrassing sniffles.

“Love you too,” Phil replies, kissing his hair.

They sit like that for a while, until Dan calms down. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he says when Phil pulls away, his tshirt adorned by a new wet spot where Dan’s tears have soaked in.

“It’s okay,” Phil says with a shrug. “It’s almost bedtime anyway.”

Dan nods, chewing on his lip. He’s only a little surprised when he feels Phil’s fingers gently brushing against his mouth to make him stop. “Are we okay?” Dan asks him, his hands clutching the fabric of his tshirt like a lifeline.

Phil brushes a curl back on Dan’s forehead, but stays quiet for so long that Dan starts to think that maybe they’re not. Eventually, he kisses Dan’s forehead and makes a little humming sound. “Of course. I’m sorry I got so upset with you earlier. I think I was just projecting my fears onto you, and then I lashed out.”

Dan blinks at him. “Well, considering my tomfoolery lately, I’d say you were remarkably restrained, bub.”

Phil gives a sheepish little laugh at that. “I’m serious, though. I’ve been afraid that you’ve been upset because maybe you really did want to call off the wedding, and I think that’s why I kinda flipped earlier.”

It’s weird to Dan that Phil is apologizing for what seemed like justified anger, but he doesn’t mention it again. Instead, he strokes a hand down Phil’s back. “You know I do want to marry you, right? I’ve thought about it for years.”

“Really?” Phil asks, almost shyly. As if he didn’t already know.

“Remember when Ian and Lauren got married? The whole time I kept fantasizing about it being us instead,” Dan admits. He thinks back on those days, to Ian and Lauren’s beautiful but simple ceremony. Dan thinks, kind of selfishly, that it would be nice to do something small like that, rather than the big thing they’re trying to undertake right now.

“I remember thinking you were so beautiful in your suit that day,” Phil says softly, stroking one of Dan’s cheekbones. “I was so proud to be your date.”

Dan kisses his collarbone before resting his head on Phil’s shoulder. “I can’t wait to be your date to our wedding,” he murmurs.

He can hear the smirk in Phil’s voice when he replies. “Luckily for you, I’ve got a spot in the wedding party with your name on it.”

They giggle helplessly, and Dan decides that yeah, they’re okay.

~~~

An hour or so later, they’re settling into bed for the night, and Phil turns to him with a thoughtful look on his face. “We should fire Lauren.”

“What?” Dan asks, pausing where he was just about to turn out the lamp, his brain on a completely different train of thought entirely.

“You don’t like her,” Phil states simply. When Dan starts to argue, Phil gives him a look. “You don’t like her, and I don’t think there should be anyone involved in this wedding who makes us fight like we did today.”

Dan thinks about it for a second, then nods. “Yeah… I hate to say it, but I think part of my attitude was just me pouting and being a bitch because I don’t like her.”

Phil rolls his eyes, but smiles. “I know. So, let’s look for someone else.”

Dan pretends to check an invisible watch on his wrist. “Uh, you think we can find someone who can help plan a wedding in three months?”

There’s a brief flash of panic on Phil’s face like he hadn’t quite thought about that part, but he shrugs. “Surely there’s someone out there who can do it. Someone who thrives under pressure or something.”

“Right,” Dan snorts. “Sure. We’ll do that in the morning before we pick up the kids?”

“Why not do it tonight?” Phil asks, gesturing to the laptop sitting in Dan’s lap. “I mean, we’re clearly not going to take advantage of the empty house doing other things.” There’s a slight flush on his cheeks as he says it, but he has a smirk on his face that means he’s serious.

Dan makes some sort of choking laughing sound, and Phil’s smirk slips into an easy grin. “Maybe a morning romp? I actually had something else I wanted us to do tonight,” he says, his voice a little nervous.

Phil moves his leg to press reassuringly against Dan’s, and he smiles encouragingly. “Alright, what’re we doing?”

Dan scratches at his clean laptop out of sheer nervousness. They hadn’t really talked fully about this, but he’s been thinking about it for at least a week. “I think we should write our vows.”

“Like, together?” Phil asks, sounding confused. “Aren’t they supposed to be a surprise?”

“I mean, I don’t think there are really rules about it, but I just meant like…” he gestures between them. “I just think it would be nice to sit together while we write them. And then read them to each other at the wedding.”

Phil smiles at him, a sweet, affectionate thing. “I think that would be really romantic,” he says, almost teasing. “Should they be handwritten?”

Dan snorts. “Well I don’t know about you, but I’m probably going to be sobbing by the time we get to this part of the ceremony, I’m going to need it typed out so I can read my own thoughts.”

Phil giggles at that, but nods before reaching for his own laptop. “Good point.”

They both start up their laptops in silence, and when Dan’s wakes up first, he goes to Spotify and selects his sappy instrumental music playlist.

The sound of a sweet violin causes Phil to flick his gaze over, and he quirks a brow when Dan meets it. “You sure you don’t want a little romantic midnight romp in the sheets before we do this?” He asks, waggling his eyebrows playfully.

Dan leans over and kisses him firmly on the mouth. “Yep. Write first. Sexy times later.”

Phil groans in some sort of fake-disappointment, but has a little grin on his face as he opens up a word doc and starts typing. Dan hopes he never forgets this moment, how it feels like he’s flying when he’s with this man, even in the aftermath of a shitty day full of arguments.

He turns back to his MacBook, cracks his fingers, and starts writing.

~~~

August

Alternatives to weddings

The words flash in Dan’s mind again, not for the first time this week.

They’re two weeks, almost three, into struggling to find a new wedding planner to replace Lauren, and as they’d feared, that’s easier said than done. Almost every event planning company they’d called had admonished them for the poor planning and said some variation of “this is the busiest season” and “we’ve been fully booked for months.”

And, sure, they could have planned better. But, as Dan has joked several times now, that was the wedding planner’s job.

Well, the joke isn’t funny anymore.

“I can’t,” Phil says, face down on the kitchen table. “If I have to hear one more middle aged Karen explain to me why she can’t even consider a consultation, I’m gonna cry.”

From the choked sound of his voice and his red-rimmed eyes, Dan believes him.

“I’ll handle calling the others,” Dan says, rubbing his partner’s back soothingly. “Why don’t you look over the guest list again, make sure we’re not missing anyone.”

Phil grumbles to himself, but gives Dan a grateful smile when he hands him the list. Anything to keep him from the phone calls, Dan figures.

Not that there’s that many left to make, he thinks glumly as he stares down at their potential wedding planners list, every name crossed off except for three.

Dan sighs as he dials the next number on the list. The assistant tells him that the wedding planner is out of office and he can leave a message, but they have this smug tone of voice like they know Dan is out of luck. The second one on the list doesn’t even answer.

By the time he dials the last number, Dan doesn’t have very high hopes.

“Hi, I’d like to speak to one of your event planners, preferably someone who specializes in weddings,” he says with false cheeriness when the person on the other end greets him. Phil gives him a side-eye sort of look, like his act is completely see-through. Dan ignores him.

“Sure,” the receptionist says. The sound of a keyboard clacking follows, and then Dan hears the dreaded question. “So when are you and your partner looking to get married?”

“October?” Dan says, biting his lip harshly when it comes out sounding like a question.

The keyboard clicking stops.

“As in… this October?” The voice says uncertainly.

“Er, yes. We’ve been planning it on our own for a while but then it was too overwhelming and the planner we found wasn’t a good fit, and-“

The voice cuts him off, but they at least have the decency to sound apologetic. “I’m so sorry, sir, our company doesn’t plan events with that short of a time frame during this season.”

“It’s the busy season, I know,” Dan says, dropping his forehead to rest in his hand in defeat. “I don’t suppose you have any recommendations or suggestions for us?” It’s definitely a last-ditch effort to save himself, but at this point, he’s desperate.

“Well… is it possible for you and your partner to scale it down?”

The question throws him off guard. “What do you mean?”

“Well, a lot of young couples get overwhelmed when they try to plan a big wedding on their own, but if it’s possible, perhaps you and your partner should consider something smaller. It might make it a bit easier to plan on your own.”

Dan thinks back to a few weeks ago, his conversation with Phil about Ian and Lauren’s wedding, and Dan’s private, fleeting thought that maybe it would be nice if their wedding could be just as cosy and intimate.

“Huh. Okay, yeah. That’s actually a really good idea, thank you,” he says, crossing this event planner off his list as well.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t be of more help,” the receptionist replies with a hint of real apology in their voice.

“Actually, that helped loads, really. So thank you so much.” Dan offers a polite goodbye before hanging up, and Phil is sat there staring at him with eager eyes.

“Well? Are we going to have a wedding?” He asks, his tone mostly joking.

Dan takes a breath. “That depends,” he starts. At Phil’s look of shock, Dan reaches out and holds his hand to sooth the bite of his words. “How would you feel about a smaller ceremony?”

Phil blinks. “A smaller ceremony?” He asks, clearly confused.

“Yeah,” Dan says. “I mean, think about it. We’ve got all these people we want to invite so we don’t seem rude, but the list of people I really care about being there is about a tenth of the people we’re thinking of inviting.”

“Okay,” Phil says slowly. “But… won’t that hurt some people’s feelings?” The question is such a Phil concern, but Dan remembers something Phil had said a month ago.

“Remember what you said about Lauren? And how there shouldn’t be anyone involved with our wedding that made us fight?” Dan asks, stroking his thumb against Phil’s wrist.

“Well, yeah, but that was, like, about the wedding planner. Not family,” he protests.

Dan rolls his eyes. “I’m not suggesting we tell your mum and dad to bugger off, babe,” Dan says, unable to keep the smile out of his voice. “I just don’t think we need every auntie and cousin there.”

Phil processes it for a minute, and finally he nods slowly. “I guess you’re right. And it would be pretty overwhelming for the kids to be around so many people they don’t know all at one time. Especially with them being part of the wedding,” he says.

“Exactly,” Dan says, smiling at him when Phil meets his gaze. “And we’ll all be stressed enough with the move, if we still get to do that in September, so I think this will make it easier on everyone.”

“Okay, yeah. You’re right,” Phil says with a nod and a little grin like he knew Dan wanted to hear it. “We’ll do a smaller ceremony.”

Dan reaches out and squeezes Phil’s arm gently. “Great. Let’s try to narrow down the guest list to the people who should really be there, and the others can just fuck off,” he says with a cheeky grin.

Phil tuts at him, but grabs a highlighter and the guest list. “I’m not telling anyone to fuck off, but I will help decide who you can say that to,” he teases.

Dan nudges their shoulders together, causing the start of a little light shoving battle that ends with Phil wrapping an arm around Dan’s waist to keep him still. Dan relaxes against his side, pointing out the names of people he wants there, or the names of people he doesn’t, and they do some quiet contemplation on how they hope that scaling down the guest list will help make everything less nerve-wracking.

Not for the last time, the words alternatives to weddings dance in his head.

Maybe this way they won’t need to consider those options, he thinks. Maybe this will work out.

~~~

September

“Babe? C’mere a sec?”

Dan waits patiently to hear the pounding of Phil’s elephant feet down their new stairs, but after a few minutes have passed and nothing has happened, he huffs and makes his way to the front of the house. They’ve only been in the new house two days, so they haven’t fully worked out the way sound travels in it yet, but with the lack of furniture and decor at the moment, he would’ve thought his voice would echo better.

“Philip!” Dan calls when he gets to the bottom of the staircase. He can hear voices upstairs, and the sounds of furniture moving, and he waits patiently for his fiancé to reply.

“Yeah?” Phil shouts back to him.

“I need you for a minute, hon.”

There’s the sound of one of the kids whining, and then the sound of something being pushed across the floor, followed by Phil’s lower tone. “Just a second,” he calls to Dan. There’s more low talking, and finally Phil appears at the top of the stairs. “What do you need?” He asks, taking the stairs a bit too quickly, which makes Dan’s heart do something nervous and uneven.

“Careful,” he warns when Phil nearly slips and grabs the bannister for support. “Don’t go breaking the goods a month before the wedding, now,” Dan teases, gesturing for Phil to follow him once he’s reached stable ground.

“Ha ha,” Phil says blandly, pinching Dan’s bum in retaliation, patting it gently to soothe when Dan squeaks. “I was trying to help Amelia set up her room. I didn’t realize how freaking long it would take to set up house from scratch like this.”

Dan laughs, but secretly, he kind of agrees. It’s definitely been a learning experience for the both of them, but Dan wouldn’t want to experience it with anyone else. “I know, it’s honestly kind of ridiculous, and we’re nowhere near even halfway finished,” he laments as he leads Phil to the back door that leads to the garden, where he’s been working on a little project of his own.

“God, don’t even remind me,” Phil groans. He glances at Dan when he pushes the door open and gestures Phil through first, and Phil steps outside with a weary expression. “Uh, what are we doing?” He asks, glancing at the fresh landscaping of their beautiful, spacious garden.

“Well,” Dan starts, placing a gentle hand on Phil’s back as he slowly leads him out onto their back patio. “I’ve been thinking about our wedding some more…”

“Uh-oh,” Phil jokes, turning to smile at Dan.

Dan rolls his eyes and pinches Phil’s waist very gently. “Funny,” he says dryly. “But seriously, since we finalized the house and started moving things in, I’ve just started thinking more about what we want for our wedding day, and I’ve come up with a sort of… unorthodox suggestion.”

Phil looks proper nervous now. “Okay… I don’t know what’s happening right now,” he admits.

Dan smiles. “I think we shouldn’t have a real wedding,” he says simply.

Phil blinks.

“Pardon?”

Leaning to the side, Dan flicks a switch on their outdoor electricity panel, and just like that, the lights that he’s spent hours meticulously hanging flicker on, bathing their garden in a soft light. They’re strung up high on the eaves at the edge of the house, but span further into the garden, criss-crossing and meeting at different places. The trees, the cute little gazebo, and even the swing set they’d bought for the children, are all anchors for the lights, leaving the yard looking as though it’s got a ceiling of twinkling lights over it. It’s not quite dark out yet, but it’s close enough to dusk that it’s absolutely breathtaking, just like Dan imagined it.

“Oh my god,” Phil breathes, turning and taking it all in. “Oh- you did all this? By yourself?” He asks, reaching out and squeezing Dan’s wrist. He can’t seem to take his eyes off the lights, his eyes sparkling.

“Well, I did meet with the electricians last week and asked if it would be possible to do something like this out here. They helped set up the right electrical connections and stuff for the lights I ordered, but uh… yeah, I won’t lie, I fucked off unpacking the kitchen so that I could do this instead.”

Phil turns around so quickly Dan almost gets whiplash, and before he can even laugh or squawk out a complaint, Phil is cradling his jaw gently in his hands and pressing their lips together. It’s a sweet, tender kiss, even with Phil as eager as he is. “It’s so beautiful,” he whispers when he pulls away, pressing their foreheads together but tilting his head so he can still see the lights.

Dan wraps his arms around Phil’s waist, squeezing him. “So here’s what I’m thinking,” he says quietly, continuing his earlier train of thought like he’d never stopped. “I think, scrap the whole small wedding idea.”

Phil rears back to stare at him, a frown adorning his pouty lips. “Dan, I thought you wanted to get married, you said-“

“Ah-ah,” Dan chirps, holding a hand up to get Phil to stop talking. “I never said we weren’t still getting married. I just said we shouldn’t bother with the wedding.”

Of course, Phil stares at him like he’s lost his mind. “I don’t get it,” he says finally. “I don’t get the joke, or whatever you’re trying to do here, babe.”

Dan smiles at him, and can’t resist kissing the little frown off his lips. “Sorry, I know I’m not making any sense,” he says sheepishly. “I do still want to get married, but I think there are alternatives to a wedding.”

Phil’s face goes a little pale, or paler, but Dan just waits patiently to see if he wants to comment on the fact that Dan knows he’s thought about it too.

It doesn’t take long. After a minute or so, Phil relaxes in Dan’s arms. “So you saw that, huh?” He says softly. He’s not upset, though, so Dan considers that a small victory.

“I just saw that you had googled it that night we fought so much,” Dan rushes to explain. “I didn’t like, stalk your browsing history or anything. But… I kept thinking about it off and on since then, especially when we couldn’t find a new wedding planner. So I did some research of my own.”

“Yeah?” Phil asks, sounding a little hopeful.

Dan nods, smiling as he presses another quick kiss to Phil’s mouth. “Yup. And for only five hundred pounds, we can have the whole ceremony done at a registry office and not have to worry about anything but getting ourselves there.”

“Wait, really?” Phil asks, pulling back. Dan nods, but Phil shakes his head. “No, I mean… isn’t that… I dunno, kind of cold? To do it in the registry office? Can we have anyone there with us?”

Dan frowns too. It’s not that he hadn’t thought of that too, but Phil had been more nervous recently about all the attention that would be on him and all the pressure of planning their own wedding by themselves and also enjoying it. His stress had been so bad he’d had weekly migraines since at least early August, so Dan thought this would be the perfect solution.

But when he explains this to Phil, his partner nods, but looks a little crestfallen.

“I… is that not what you want?” Dan asks quietly. “I just thought maybe it would be less stressful on us, and there’s other ways to celebrate the day, you know.”

“No, no, you’re right,” Phil says quickly, stroking a hand over Dan’s shoulder reassuringly. He look almost bashful. “I just… I wanted you to have your big ceremony and your glamorous outfit and everything. I know you were looking forward to the attention,” Phil says, with no bite in his voice at all.

Dan blushes, but doesn’t deny it. “That’s not important, though. What’s important is our mental well-being, and making sure that day is as stress-free and happy as possible, yeah?”

Phil nods, but still looks troubled. “Yeah… you’re right, I just… I don’t know, babe, I want you to have that too. I want us both to have what we want. The simple ceremony but the big party and everything…”

Dan hums, and looks out at the lights he’d spent hours hanging. He’d chosen to have this conversation with Phil out here after showing it to him mainly because he figured it would help ease Phil into the idea he’s just proposed, but now… Dan might have an even better idea.

“Okay, what about this,” Dan starts. “We’ve already ordered the cake and most of the food and stuff like that, so what if we just did a party, here, after the ceremony?”

“Here?” Phil asks, glancing around. His lips slowly twitch into a little grin, and Dan knows he’s already sold on the idea.

“Yeah,” Dan says, trying to hide his own smile. “Why not? We’ll get married at the registry office with the kids there, along with our families, and then we’ll all come back here for a party with some of our friends. It’ll still be small, but I think that’s even better, actually.”

Phil hums, looking around their garden with a soft smile. “Yeah. I think that would be really great, Dan.”

“Yeah?” Dan asks, nearly vibrating with excitement. This is the most cohesive plan they’ve come up with for the wedding so far. They’ve been so busy moving house that they hadn’t even picked a venue or flowers or any of that, so making this decision so quickly - Dan is a little excited.

“Yeah,” Phil agrees, leaning in and kissing Dan deeply.

Dan lets him for a second, but pulls back to give him a careful look. “And you’re sure you’re okay with that? With us getting legally married at a legal office, then coming back here to celebrate?”

Phil nods, kissing Dan’s cheek. “Of course. I think it’s perfect. I… honestly, I wouldn’t have admitted it, but I was nervous about being at the center of attention for the actual ceremony thing, like, with everyone we know being there.”

Dan nods in understanding. “I get that. Do you think you’ll be okay with your family and mine being there?”

“Of course,” Phil nods. “I would be devastated if my mum didn’t see me get married, even if it’s in a civil office,” he jokes. “She’d kill me if I even thought about not inviting her anyway.”

Dan giggles at that, hugging his partner even tighter. “That’s true,” he murmurs. Another thought occurs then, and he glances at Phil’s face to gauge his reaction. “You can say no to what I’m about to ask, but… it would mean a lot to me if we could still share our personal written vows.”

Phil smiles, and it’s so fond Dan is certain his heart will burst. “Of course. At the ceremony or at the party?” He asks, sounding a little nervous for the answer.

“Well, either is fine… but… if I’m honest, I kind of like the idea of standing up in front of all our closest friends and family and telling them how much I love you and why I wanted to marry you in the first place. I think it would be…”

“Romantic?” Phil fills in the blank easily, a little smile crinkling at his eyes.

Dan can feel his face flush, but he nods anyway. “Yes,” he admits. “We don’t have to, of course, but… if it’s okay with you, I’d like to do that.”

Phil seems to think about it for a minute, but ultimately he nods. “It makes me nervous, but I can tell it’s important to you. So, I’ll do it. We can do it at the party, with all our favorite people there.” His nerves seem to slip away, like he’s imagining just that, and it fills Dan’s heart with love to see it.

“Thank you,” Dan murmurs before kissing him again. This kiss is longer, deeper, and Dan is just thinking how he wishes it had the potential to go somewhere when a loud knock is heard from behind them.

They jerk apart with matching noises of surprise, and Dan is unsurprised to find Amelia stood on the other side of the door, her little arms crossed while she shakes her head. She’s the epitome of disappointment, and yet Dan thinks she’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen.

“Dad!” She pouts when Dan opens the door, an apology she doesn’t wait to hear on the tip of his tongue. “You said you would finish setting up my room so I could decorate,” she whines.

If he weren’t so happy right now, Dan might be upset with the interruption. As it is, he just smiles, stroking a warm hand up and down Phil’s back in a parting gesture before pushing him towards their daughter.

“Off you go,” he says when Phil gives him a look. “Parenting duty is calling,” he teases.

Phil rolls his eyes, but he looks so unmistakeably giddy that Dan’s heart starts fluttering like a lovesick teenager. “Alright, but you better get back to unpacking the kitchen, now that you’ve done this,” Phil says, his voice teasing and light.

Dan grins, flicking off the lights before he follows them in. Amelia is already asking what they are and what they were doing out there, Phil telling her they’ll look at them later when they’re done decorating her room, and Dan can’t imagine his future looking any better than this.

~~~

October

Dan wakes up the morning of his wedding feeling refreshed and excited.

It’s such a whirlwind of strong emotions that he nearly feels sick at first, but he knows it’s just the nerves. He rolls over, expecting to find Phil still asleep, but instead his bright blue eyes are already staring right back at him. Dan startles a bit, and they both laugh. They wordlessly curl around each other, their lips finding each other with ease in the soft light of the morning.

“Good morning,” Phil says. His voice isn’t as sleep-rough and deep as it usually is in the mornings, so Dan knows he’s probably been awake for a while.

“Morning,” Dan parrots, copying the smile on Phil’s face. “T minus…” he pauses, scrambling for his phone on the bedside table with a flailing arm while Phil presses his nose against Dan’s neck and inhales deeply. Dan checks the time with a smile, running his fingers through Phil’s drooping quiff with his free hand. “T minus six-ish hours until the wedding,” he announces, dropping his phone carelessly onto the bed after he’s said it.

Phil has a soft look on his face as he reaches out, tucking a curl behind Dan’s ear. “Only six hours left for any escape plan you’ve got up your sleeve,” Phil jokes.

Dan rolls his eyes. “The only escape I’ll manage today is escaping this warm bed, I’m afraid,” Dan says with a very put-upon sort of sigh.

“Good,” Phil says, positively beaming as he rolls over, practically crushing Dan with a hug.

“Omf,” Dan grunts, laughing a little as he wraps his arms around Phil’s shoulders, hugging him close. “Do you think the kids are awake yet?” He asks quietly, one hand creeping down Phil’s back, brushing his fingertips teasingly against bare skin.

Phil shivers. “God, I hope not,” he breathes, arching into Dan’s touch. The movement causes his hips to rut against Dan’s, and they both take in a sharp breath at the friction.

Dan kisses across Phil’s jaw, nibbling a little as he goes. “Door locked?” He mumbles.

“Mm,” Phil hums. “I think so,” he says, but Dan can tell he’s not sure.

Dan pats his bum gently, placing one last kiss against his scruffy jaw before pulling away. “We probably don’t have enough time to make it special anyway,” he says, a note of apology in his voice.

Phil pouts, but doesn’t argue. “Yeah. Plus, your mum should be here soon to get settled in,” he says.

“Right,” Dan says. He tries to keep the nerves out of his voice. They’d asked his mum to stay with the kids for the following week while they go on their honeymoon, and Dan was undeniably anxious about it. But it had been Phil’s suggestion, and Karen had been so excited, and Dan really didn’t have the heart to go back on his word now.

Phil can obviously sense his discomfort, and Dan smiles at him weakly while Phil shifts, bringing their faces close together for a deep kiss. “It’ll be okay,” Phil whispers when he pulls back a little. He studies Dan’s expression carefully, giving him a sympathetic little smile. “The kids are excited to spend a week with Grandma Karen, and that has to count for something, right?”

Dan manages a nod, but allows himself to be distracted by Phil’s closeness and warmth. “Kiss?” He murmurs, puckering his lips.

Phil smiles, his eyes crinkling beautifully as he leans in and presses their lips together. Dan sighs into it, reaching up to cradle Phil’s jaw. He rubs the pad of his thumb along the stubble there, marveling at the feeling of it. It’s new, and a little different, but Dan loves it just like he loves every part of this man.

“Mm,” Dan hums into the kiss, letting his lips stray a little to brush over the stubble, shivering at the feeling.

“You really love that,” Phil says, his voice fond and bordering on amusement.

Dan feels his face heat, but he doesn’t deny it. “Wish you didn’t have to shave,” he sighs longingly.

Phil smiles, shaking his head. “You’re so silly,” he says, definitely amused.

Dan pouts. “I’m serious. I think you’d look so hot with a full beard.”

“Really?” Phil asks. The thought must be funny to him, and Dan watches as he lets out a little snort, then giggles.

“You would,” Dan argues petulantly.

Phil shrugs, like he doesn’t care to argue about it. Something else crosses his face then, and it takes Dan a second to place it as insecurity. “But… you’re okay with me shaving right? Like… you still like that too?” He asks, sounding timid.

Dan hitches his leg up, using it as leverage to roll them over, so that he’s the one pinning Phil to the mattress. Phil splutters at the quick change in position, but before he can say anything, Dan leans in and smothers him with kisses. He nips at Phil’s lip, licking into his mouth like they’ve got time for this to go somewhere, even though they both know that they don’t.

When he’s breathless and his lips are aching and shiny, Dan pulls away, staring down at Phil with what he hopes is a very intense stare. Phil looks bewildered, his hair wild and his eyes wide. Dan grins. “I love you no matter what, you goofball. I don’t give two fucks about what you do to your body, it’s your body. I just want to be the only one who gets to appreciate it.”

Dan had only meant to comfort Phil, so he frowns when tears well up in his eyes and he hides his face behind his hands. Dan sits there, dumbfounded for a second as Phil sniffles, shoulders shaking as he tries to get himself under control. Sitting up fully, Dan is careful not to touch him anywhere except where he’s settled on Phil’s hips, trying to give him some space.

“Phil?” Dan says softly. When Phil makes a noise, Dan reaches out carefully. “Can I… can I touch you?”

“Yes,” Phil says, his voice cracking a little. He reaches for Dan first, tugging him into a tight hug. He tilts his face, and Dan feels a line of wet kisses pressed to his cheek. “I’m sorry,” Phil breathes. He laughs a little, and Dan pulls back again to watch him wipe at his eyes. “God. I just… I really can’t believe I get to marry you. I’m so lucky,” he says, something like awe in his voice.

Dan blinks, and has to remind himself twice that he can’t cry right now. If he starts, who knows when he’ll stop, and he refuses to have a puffy face the whole day of his wedding. “I think I’m the lucky one,” he says gently, stroking a hand over Phil’s cheek. He leans in and gives him another soft kiss, and Phil squeezes his hip.

Before either of them have the chance to say anything else, there’s a knock on their bedroom door. “Daddy?” Amelia’s voice calls.

Phil sighs, a tired grin on his face. “You’re being paged,” he says.

Dan rolls his eyes, but he’s got a matching smile. “You wanna take a shower while I go make some breakfast?”

“Sure,” Phil nods. Amelia knocks again, and Phil snorts, patting Dan’s hip. “Go, go,” he says. “Before she breaks down the door.”

Dan sneaks one last kiss before climbing out of bed. Overall it’s a pretty great start to his wedding day.

~~~

It’s an hour or so later, and they’re mostly finished eating breakfast when the doorbell rings, and the only person arriving this early is certainly Dan’s mum. Dan stops mid-sentence from telling Amelia that yes she did have to wear shoes that match her dress for the ceremony at the registry office, and he’s sure his eyes are massive when he catches Phil’s gaze.

“It’s going to be fine,” Phil says automatically. “Do you want me to go answer the door?”

Dan wipes his suddenly sweaty hands on his trousers, shaking his head with a nervous gulp. He doesn’t even know why he’s so nervous. His mother knows he’s gay, and considering she was the first person he told when he realized he was in love with Phil, there’s really nothing for him to be nervous about. And yet, here he is. “I’ll get it,” Dan says, fiddling with his hair and pushing his chair away from the table. “Just…” he glances around at his family, flushing when he realizes they’re watching him with various degrees of confusion and amusement on their faces. “Nevermind,” he says, pacing out of the kitchen.

He’s a nervous wreck walking towards the front door, even though he knows there’s no reason to be. This is his mother, and even though she hasn’t really experienced this part of his life very much, it’s not a bad thing for these two parts of his life to intersect. He tells himself that it’s going to be fine, and repeats this mantra several times before he finally forces himself to open the front door.

“Daniel!” His mum greets cheerfully as soon as the door is open. She has a wide, easy smile on her face, and Dan allows himself to release his breath and put on what he hopes is a convincing smile.

“Hi, Mum,” he greets, gesturing her inside and reciprocating the gentle hug that she gives him. She’s not really a hugger, but this last year or so has changed that. It’s a change Dan doesn’t mind seeing, actually.

“I hope I’m not too early. I didn’t want to be in the way of you two getting ready for your big day, but I thought maybe I could help the children get ready if you and Phil needed me to,” she says, her words coming out quick and eager, like Dan’s are apt to do when he gets carried away himself. It’s a trait he normally finds annoying, but he reminds himself that she’s doing her best, and that she’s genuinely excited to be here, and that’s enough to make him give her a genuine smile.

“Sure, Mum. C’mon, everyone is in the dining room finishing up breakfast.”

He leads her through the house, promising to give her the grand tour later, as she’s not had the chance to see it yet, but she seems more excited to see the kids then anything else. She’s only really met them twice, but they got along great, and have had many FaceTime calls since then.

“Grandma!” Amelia squeals when she spots them coming into the kitchen.

“Amelia, love!” Karen replies, holding her hands out to catch the hug Amelia practically throws at her. “Oh, dear, I’ve missed you all so much,” Karen is saying, brushing Amelia’s hair back gently as she makes her way to the table. She crouches beside Jaiden and gives him a hug, smiling and nodding as he tells her that he’s got a houseplant of his very own to show her later. Dan watches this scene with misty eyes, and isn’t phased when he feels a warm presence beside him, a hand coming to rest on his lower back.

“Told you it’d be okay,” Phil whispers, and Dan can hear the smirk.

Dan elbows him anyway. “Shush. It’s still early,” he shoots back quietly. Secretly though, he’s thrilled. It does seem to be going well, and the kids are so happy to see her, Dan really doesn’t know what he was so worried about.

Even Levi stands to give her a hug, grinning proudly when Karen brags about how tall he’s gotten since she’d seen him a few months ago. It’s a warm moment, and Dan doesn’t bother interrupting, instead going to clean up empty dishes, dumping them in the sink and tapping the chore chart on the fridge to check and see whose turn it is to wash up.

“Phil, hon, it’s your turn to do dishes,” he calls, running the water despite saying that.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, dear,” Karen says before Phil can even move towards the sink. “You two go get ready for your day, I’ll take care of the washing up and sending these ones to get dressed.”

Dan frowns. “Mum, are you sure? We didn’t ask you to come here early to be the live-in maid, honest.”

Karen snorts, and it’s the most Dan-like sound he’s ever heard another human make. That explains where that quirk came from. “Are you really going to deny a mother who wants to clean up after her children?” She asks, glancing between Dan and Phil with her hands on her hips. Her gaze settles on Phil and she smiles, shaking her head. “I don’t know what you’ve done to my son, Phil. I’ve never known him to pass up on someone else doing his washing.”

Phil laughs at that, more than he should, Dan thinks, but he grins at Karen like he’s in on the joke. “Well I hate to say it, but I don’t think I can take credit for this one. He’s a stickler for his chore chart, and I think that’s more of a parenting thing than a partner thing,” Phil says.

Karen smiles and nods, but makes eye contact with Dan like it pains her to hear the ways in which he’s already a better father than his own ever was. It’s a fleeting moment of a twinkle of guilt in her eyes, and then it’s gone, and she’s shooing them both away from the sink. “Go, go. I’ll take care of this, and then get the children ready. We’ll be ready to go in no time.”

“Okay,” Dan agrees warily. “The twins have their outfits hanging on their closet door, and Levi, you’ve got a tie, right?” Dan asks.

Levi smiles and nods. “Yeah, Dad, you bought me one last week.” His lips twitch like he’s trying not to laugh, and at this point Dan really can’t blame him even if he does. Because he does recognize, vaguely, that he’s being completely overbearing and annoying right now.

“Okay. Right,” Dan clears his throat. “Well, you guys behave while your dad and I go get ready, okay?” He gives the kids as stern a look as he can manage, but they’re not really paying attention to him, already off and chatting with Karen, even asking to help her do the washing up. It almost makes Dan roll his eyes.

“Thank you, Karen,” Phil says, gently guiding Dan down the hall. “We won’t be long.”

She waves them off with a smile and a wink, and Dan lets himself relax and be led to their bedroom.

“Do you still feel okay about asking her to stay?” Phil asks once they’re in their room.

Dan nods. “Yeah. I feel better now that she’s here. I guess I just… I don’t know. I guess some part of me was worried that they’d be ignored or an inconvenience to her, like I was.”

“Dan,” Phil says softly. “Your mum loves you. Even if she may not be the greatest at showing it in the most obvious of ways, she does.”

“I know that now,” Dan nods. “It’s just… I can’t undo the feelings I had about that situation when I was a kid, you know?”

Phil drops the shirt he’d dug out of the closet onto the bed and steps right into Dan’s space. He wraps his arms around his waist, pulling him close and kissing the corner of his mouth. “I know. And I’m proud of you for trying to put those feelings to the side so that our kids can know their grandma. It means a lot to me, and I know it means a lot to them, and to her.”

Dan sniffles a little, but nods before tilting his head to capture Phil’s mouth in a proper kiss. “I love you,” he murmurs when they pull apart.

Phil kisses him again, short and sweet. “And I love you,” he says, smiling that soft thing that always makes Dan melt before pressing their lips together again.

Dan lets himself be kissed, but reminds himself that they really don’t have time for that right now. “C’mon, gotta get dressed,” he murmurs against Phil’s mouth.

A whine escapes Phil’s throat, and Dan giggles when he pulls away. “What?” Phil pouts when Dan shakes his head at him.

“Nothing, nothing. But, like, mate… you know we’re about to spend a whole week alone together, right? We’ll have all the time in the world…” Dan trails off, smirking at the way Phil’s pupils dilate, his tongue darting out to moisten his lip.

And he calls Dan easy.

“C’mon, let’s get dressed. Can’t have you going out in public like that,” Dan says, gesturing him to their massive shared closet.

Phil glances down at his very reasonable Pokémon T-shirt and pouts. “This isn’t even that bad, everyone likes Pokémon,” he argues.

Dan leans in to peck his cheek as he steps past Phil. “Not what I’m referring to, bub,” he whispers, reaching down and brushing his fingertips across the band of Phil’s joggers.

He fully expects the horny groan that Phil lets out, but the grip on his hips takes him a little by surprise. Dan can’t help but squeal a little as Phil tugs him back against his chest, kissing his neck with loud smacking noises as Dan giggles and thrashes in his grip.

“Little tease,” Phil mumbles, petulant as he squeezes Dan close.

“Shut up,” Dan laughs, with absolutely no conviction in his voice. He screams again when Phil starts tickling his sides, but he’s cut off mid-yelp when Phil’s hand flies up to cover his mouth.

“Shh!” Phil whisper-yells.

Dan snorts, then does exactly what Phil should have seen coming.

“Ew, Dan!” Phil squeals when he pulls his hand away, now covered in a fresh coat of Dan’s saliva.

Dan cackles maniacally, twisting in Phil’s grip and wrapping his arms around his waist in what he hopes seems like a sweet, repentant gesture. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbles sweetly. When Phil relaxes in his grip, Dan grins, then strikes again, licking a wide stripe up Phil’s neck, delighting in the way he squeals and jerks in Dan’s grip.

They’re both giggling and poking and prodding each other like lovesick teenagers when they suddenly hear a loud knock on their door. Dan feels like all the air is sucked out of the room as they go quiet, freezing in their embrace as they wait to see which of their children needs their attention. Dan pretends he isn’t aware of the fact that they’ve been in here fooling around for probably ten minutes, while his poor mum is out there trying to wrangle their children without them.

“Boys, everything alright?” The voice belongs to Dan’s mum, and something about that makes Dan feel even more guilty somehow, like he’s still a teenager hiding a boy away in his room so his parents don’t realize he’s gay.

“Er, yeah,” Phil calls back when Dan doesn’t answer.

“May I come in?” Karen asks, the epitome of politeness.

Phil gives Dan an incredulous look, but Dan shrugs, trying to pull out of Phil’s grip. Phil doesn’t let him go far, but does call out a cheery, “sure!”

The door opens a crack, and when Karen sees that they’re only hugging, she smiles and steps into the room. “Fooling around before the wedding? That was bad luck back in my day,” she jokes.

Dan is certain his face is going to melt off with the embarrassment of hearing his mother say that. “Mum,” Dan whines, dropping his head to Phil’s shoulder, which is shaking with his silent laughter.

“I’m only teasing, love,” she says with a shake of her head and a smile.

“You didn’t get to do it enough when I was young, so you’re making me suffer now?” Dan asks, keeping his voice light so she knows he’s only joking.

Karen rolls her eyes when Dan turns to grin at her, but she’s got a small smile on her face. “Something like that,” she says mildly. “We heard screaming, and the twins were worried and wanted to check on you,” she continues, a knowing glint in her eye.

Dan blushes. It’s not like they were really doing anything inappropriate, but it had seemed to be going in that direction. And it’s not like their children haven’t accidentally interrupted any of their intimate moments, either, but with his mother there…

Phil clears his throat. He can probably sense Dan’s embarrassment, always so in tune with Dan’s every emotion.

“Right,” Phil says lightly. “Um… thank you for doing that for them, Karen. Not that we were, um…” he trails off, and when Dan looks at him, his face is flushed a gorgeous red.

“What he means,” Dan says, finally pulling out of Phil’s grasp. “Is that it’s nice to be able to have some space and a little privacy. So, thank you, Mum.”

Karen laughs, that knowing look still in her eye. “Don’t say I never do anything for you, dear. Now, is there anything else you two need me to do before the ceremony?”

Dan shakes his head, glancing at Phil for confirmation. “I don’t think so. You’re already helping loads just being here and helping the kids get ready, honestly.”

“Oh, it’s really no problem. I’m just happy to spend time with them,” she replies with a wave of her hand.

Dan can’t help but snort. “You think that now, but wait till it’s been a few days and you’re watching Peter Pan for the eighteenth time,” he says, rolling his eyes.

Karen rolls her eyes at him in turn, giving Phil an exasperated look. “This one likes to pretend he wasn’t addicted to Aladdin as a child.”

Phil laughs, like the traitor he is. “As a child? Dan still votes on Aladdin for movie nights more times than he doesn’t.”

His mum and Phil laugh over this, teasing Dan, and the ease of it all settles deep in Dan’s chest. This is what he’s always wanted, this quiet comfort between his partner and his family. He just never thought he’d actually see it. His throat tightens with emotion when his mum promises to bring some baby pictures the next time she visits, Phil’s eyes gleaming with mischief in response.

Despite the very real emotion threatening to overcome him, Dan decides that they really need to get this show on the road if they’re ever going to make it to the registry office on time.

“Alright, alright. You two can mock me more at the party this evening,” Dan says, kind of ushering her out the door in the nicest way he can think of.

Karen smiles, giving Phil another mischievous look. “With your mum in attendance, I imagine we’ll have even more stories to share.”

Phil laughs, his tongue doing that poking between his teeth thing it always does when he’s too happy to be self conscious about it. “God, I’m sure she’ll have loads to share, probably more than I even know.”

“I can’t wait,” Karen says with a smile. Her gaze focuses on Dan again, and somehow her smile softens even more. She brings a hand up to ruffle his hair like she did when he was a child, but the height difference almost makes him laugh. “I can’t believe my little bear is all grown up and getting married.” She doesn’t say it with any of the tears and emotion that Dan knows Phil’s mum will likely do, but he can tell that it’s a genuine pride in her voice.

Dan smiles at her. “I know, mum,” he says softly. Gently, and despite knowing that they don’t have too much time to waste on sentiments, he pulls her into a hug, letting her hold on as tightly as she wishes. It’s probably the first time in a long time that it wasn’t just an act of obligation, and when Dan meets Phil’s gaze over her shoulder, he can tell he’s not the only one getting emotional about it.

“Alright,” she says after a few seconds longer than they’d normally linger. “Enough of that, now. You two go on and get ready, I’ll see to it that the children aren’t tearing the place apart out there.”

Dan nods, smiling as she sees her way out of their bedroom and closes the door softly behind her. He takes a deep breath, trying not to feel overwhelmed with how wonderful she’s being. It wasn’t like she had been anything less than supportive when Dan came out to her all those years ago, but he never expected them to make it to this point- to the point where the day of his wedding to another man could be something exciting and joyful rather than stressful and lonely. It was a feeling he knew he was lucky to be able to embrace after all the years of torment he’d gone through in primary school.

“You okay?” Phil asks softly, and Dan smiles when he feels familiar arms coming to wrap around his waist and familiar lips pressing to his neck.

“Mm. More than okay, actually,” Dan replies, leaning into the embrace for just a moment. Just a moment, though, because as much as he’d like to, they don’t have time for this. “I’m marrying my best friend today, so I reckon I’m doing great,” he says as he pulls away from Phil and shoots him a smile.

As Dan goes to the closet to find the outfit he’d settled on for the day, he hears Phil laugh behind him. “That’s funny, I’m marrying my best friend today, too,” he says.

Dan grins as he tugs off the t-shirt he’s wearing, trading it for a dark, slate grey button-down. “What an odd coincidence,” he muses, continuing the joke.

Phil makes a noise of agreement, and Dan listens to the sounds of him opening and closing different drawers as he goes about getting dressed and ready for the day. “Maybe we’ll bump into each other at our weddings,” Phil says.

Dan snorts. “Maybe. I’ll be the one in… well, not white.”

“Of course not,” Phil laughs. “Why wear something classic when you can be edgy instead?”

Dan feigns an exasperated sigh. “Well, it’s not much, but someone has to be the cool one in this relationship.”

Phil smiles at him as he tugs on a nice black pair of slacks. “I love you,” he says, like he’s commenting on the weather. Dan is incredibly embarrassed to admit that it still makes his stupid heart flutter. “Even when you’re not cool,” Phil finishes with a smirk.

Making some sort of highly offended noise, Dan goes to find his own slacks, side-eyeing the pair adorning Phil’s legs when he doesn’t immediately find the pair he’s searching for in the dresser. “One, I’m always cool, it’s one of my many attractive qualities. Two, you’re wearing my fucking trousers, mate.”

Phil doesn’t even seemed fazed in the slighted, doesn’t even look down to see if Dan is correct. “So find another pair?” He suggests, waltzing over to the closet to find his shirt. Dan can’t help that his eyes are drawn to Phil’s ass, and he pouts when he notices just how much better he fills out the trousers.

“They’re my trousers,” Dan sulks as he digs in the dresser for another pair. “But… They do make your ass look good, so I reckon you can keep them.”

“Thanks, love,” Phil replies cheerfully, a little smirk on his face.

Dan rolls his eyes. Phil is such a fake bitch sometimes. But god, Dan loves him.

“On second thought, that might be the only nice pair of trousers I own, actually, so unless you want me in my jeans on our perfect day, you might have to give them back,” Dan says after his few minutes of searching wields no results.

“You know, if we had picked out our outfits sooner, we wouldn’t have this problem,” Phil muses from the closet. He sounds far too smug about being right, but Dan isn’t about to give him the satisfaction.

Dan snorts. “As if that’s my fault,” he says, shooting a pointed look Phil’s way.

His face distinctly pinker now, Phil clears his throat. “No idea what you’re talking about. You were too busy freaking out about packing for the honeymoon that you didn’t want to do this bit, remember?” Phil’s trying out his favorite half-truth diversion tactic, but luckily, Dan’s got over ten years of experience in dealing with this shit.

“Oh? And is that all I was busy with? Or did someone get me busy with something else, Philip?” He’s clearly just taunting him now, because they both know the truth, and they both know exactly what held them up from getting this task done sooner.

“I… that was your idea,” Phil tries, tugging his shirt on and steadily avoiding Dan’s gaze.

“Mm,” Dan hums, as if he’s considering the truth behind the statement, which he is not. “As I recall, I’m not the one who got on my knees and started-“

“Okay!” Phil interrupts loudly, his face flushed. Even after all this time, talking about sex still made him so embarrassed. It’s something Dan secretly coveted, and secretly hoped would never change.

“I’m only teasing, babe,” Dan says, stepping into a pair of trousers that probably belonged to Phil at one time. He fastens them up before stepping into Phil’s space and swatting his hands away from his shirt to button it for him. “I love you,” he reminds him softly, his eyes studying his fingers as they work down the buttons of the shirt.

Phil’s hand comes up to stroke Dan’s cheek gently. “I know,” Phil mumbles. “Love me so much you’re gonna marry me, right?”

Dan smiles, glancing up at him as he finishes the last button. “That’s the plan,” he replies.

Phil returns the smile, then presses it to Dan’s, for just a second. They don’t have time for it now, Dan reminds himself yet again, even as he deepens the kiss, but he knows they will very, very soon.

~~~

“Oh, Philip,” is the first thing they hear when they arrive at the registry office. Phil’s brother and his wife agreed to pick up their mum and dad from the airport and bring them to the office for the ceremony, but in light of Kathryn’s waterworks, Dan’s wondering if maybe they should have made this initial reunion a private one.

“Hi, Mum,” Phil says warmly, gathering his mother up in a warm hug. Amelia is tugging impatiently on Dan’s hand, waiting for her turn with Nana Kath, but Dan holds her back. This is a mother/son moment that he won’t be letting her interrupt.

“Oh, my baby. My baby is all grown up, isn’t he? Nigel, can you believe it, that our Philip Michael is about to be married?” Kathryn is all sniffles and misty eyes, and if Dan wasn’t so moved by it, he’d probably be uncomfortable.

“Alright, love, give the boy some space,” Nigel says in his even, calm tone. “No sense in bawling all over him now.” He winks at Phil when he says this, gently prying Kathryn away. He takes her spot, giving Phil a short but firm hug, and Dan knows the Lesters well enough to know that, despite his seemingly unaffected exterior, Nigel lingers a little longer than usual, like he, too, is emotional over this occasion.

“Enough of all this weeping mess,” Martyn announces, rolling his eyes. “Don’t you two have an appointment? Or does this place take walk-ins?”

Kathryn makes an offended noise. “I’ll weep if I please, Martyn,” she scolds. “It’s not every day your youngest gets married.”

From beside him, Dan’s mum laughs, nodding along with her. “Or your eldest,” she chimes in.

Finally out of her Phil-shaped tunnel vision, Kathryn spots Karen and lights up with the brightest smile, as if they’re lifelong friends. “Karen!” Kathryn greets, going to give her a hug. “It’s been ages, dear, how have you been? How is the kitchen renovation going?”

Dan makes eye contact with Phil as their mums start chatting, and they both roll their eyes good-naturedly.

At his side, Amelia huffs. “Daddy,” she whines. “Why is everyone ignoring me?”

“Baby, they’re not doing it on purpose, but sometimes adults need time to socialize with other adults before they’re ready to play with the kids, okay?” Dan tries to explain gently.

Amelia pouts. “Fine.”

“Maybe if you’d gone inside with Levi and Jaiden to get some water and find the loo, you wouldn’t be having this problem,” Dan continues, giving her a look. They’d wanted this time outside the registry office to meet up with everyone and make sure everyone was ready to go, but also to make sure the adults had time to greet each other and catch up without the kids involved.

Amelia, of course, could not stand to be left out.

“Grandma?” Amelia says sweetly, stepping just a half a step or so away from Dan.

Being the veteran mums and attentive grandmothers they are, both Kathryn and Karen turn around at the sound of her voice.

“Oh, my little Mia! Come give Nana a hug!” Kathryn says, crouching and holding her arms out. Amelia all but rips her arm out of Dan’s grip to skip over to her, and he has to applaud her ambition, honestly.

“Hi, Nana,” Amelia says, latching onto Kathryn’s neck and giving Dan a smug look over her shoulder.

Dan rolls his eyes but lets his daughter be pampered and spoiled while she’s got the chance. He turns to find Nigel smiling at them, and Dan briefly feels the absence of his own father, just a little. Not enough to make him overcome with emotion like he feels he sometimes is by the reminder, but enough that he reaches for Phil, threading their fingers together and squeezing tightly.

Phil smiles at him, that soft, kind one that he does, like he understands exactly what Dan is thinking, like some kind of freaky mind reader. His grip on Dan’s hand tightens just a bit, and Dan allows the gesture to calm him down slightly.

“Alright, I think we’re all here, so I reckon it’s time to get this show on the road, right, lads?” Martyn announces, clapping his hands together.

Dan glances around, half-expecting to see his own brother’s face somewhere in the small crowd they’ve got here. He isn’t particularly surprised to note his absence, but seeing all of Phil’s family there, when Dan’s own mum is the only one who could be bothered to show up for him… it hurts, just a little.

“Yep, we’re ready,” Dan says, before he can let the thoughts fester anymore than they already have. He glances around, noticing that he’s missing two children. “Er- actually, I probably need to run and find the boys. Phil, herd everyone else to the room we’re meant to be in?”

Phil nods, leaning in for a quick kiss, their usual parting gesture these days. “See you at the alter?” he jokes.

Dan almost rolls his eyes at the joke they’ve already made a thousand times, but smiles and nods. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

~~~

By the time he’s rounded up Levi and Jaiden, it’s almost already time for their appointment. He’s chastising them for going to the restroom on the farthest side of the building, neither of them paying him any mind, when he opens the door to the room they’d been assigned. He stops dead in his tracks once he gets there, staring at the two newest additions to their already-sizeable party.

“Nan!” He says, surprise and glee coloring his tone.

His grandmother turns and smiles at him, and Dan wastes no time making his way across the room to gather her up in a hug. He catches Phil’s eye over her shoulder and finds him smiling smugly, and suddenly wonders what Phil had to do with this.

Before he can ask, she’s pulling away, reaching up and patting his cheek gently. “Daniel,” she says, her voice kind and quiet. “I’ve missed you, young man. You don’t come see your old Nan nearly enough, you know.”

Dan feels a brief wash of shame, but she smiles knowingly, and he knows she doesn’t hold his absence against him. “I’m sorry. We really need to do better about that,” he admits. “I’m just so glad you’re here. I thought you couldn’t make it?” Dan asks, still reeling. “Mum said you didn’t feel like making the trip up.”

Karen snorts behind him. “That’s what she told me,” she says dryly.

Nan smiles and shakes her head, patting Dan’s hand gently. “Well I didn’t feel like it when I said that, but your brother managed to convince me,” she says, glancing over at the other newcomer, who Dan had pretty much ignored until this point.

Adrian doesn’t look too bothered by the attention, or lack thereof, and simply smiles at Dan when he makes eye contact. “Well… I knew how important it was to you for her to be here,” he says with a shrug, as if this is something he does everyday rather than the only nice thing he’s ever really done for Dan at all.

“Thank you,” Dan says, his voice wavering. He steps closer to him, pulling him into a brief but firm hug.

Adrian smiles and nods. “No problem,” he says. Jaiden tugs on his sleeve then, and Adrian reaches down to pick him up easily. Something about the gesture has Dan feeling a little choked up, and it’s a feeling he chooses not to examine too closely.

Before Dan has a chance to get weepier than he already is, he hears someone clear their throat from behind him. He turns, finding Phil smiling at him with an older man standing beside him. “Dan, this is Richard, he’s our registrar for the ceremony,” Phil explains, nodding to the older man. “Richard, this is my fiance, Daniel.”

Richard smiles kindly, and reaches out to shake Dan’s hand politely. “Lovely to meet the both of you.” He quickly turns business-like, delivering what is likely a well-rehearsed speech. “Now, I’m sure they informed you when you gave your notice of intent, there will be a brief private interview before the ceremony begins to confirm personal details, as well as your programme of events.”

Dan nods, glancing around to make sure everyone who needs to be there is there. “Alright,” Dan says. “Do we step out into the corridor, or…”

Richard smiles again, shaking his head. “No, I have a small office just off this room, and it will just take a few moments.” He turns to their guests then, and in a perfectly even and professional tone, says, “I would like to welcome all of you and thank you for coming. If you don’t mind, please decide on your seating arrangements, while I have a brief council with the husbands-to-be.”

Dan feels a rush go through him at hearing that word out loud, especially from a stranger. It scratches that primal part of his brain, that part that thinks of black hair and blue eyes and thinks “mine.”

Everyone begins settling down then, so Richard turns and smiles at both of them before gesturing for them to follow him through a door Dan hadn’t noticed before. It leads to a small but plush office, housing a sleek wooden desk with a high-back office chair behind it, with two smaller, less impressive chairs sitting across from that. Richard gestures to those seats, and Dan leads the way, sitting on the very edge of his and bouncing his knee with barely-contained excitement.

“So, the purpose of this is essentially just fact-checking. If each of you would, please check over this document and ensure all the details are correct and there are no spelling issues.” The registrar slides a sleek iPad over, and on it is the digital version of what is essentially their marriage contract, Dan reckons. He checks his information first, as it’s listed at the top of the page, and hums an affirmation when he sees everything is correct. A glance at Phil confirms this, so he scrolls down to the section with Phil’s information. After both of them have checked it over, Dan glances up at Richard and smiles, handing the device back.

“Everything looks good to me,” Dan says cheerfully.

Richard nods, tapping at the screen for a moment. His computer makes a chiming noise, and he’s quick to switch devices, clicking around for a few moments before Dan eventually hears a printer whir to life. It’s oddly quiet, save for the sound of muffled voices they can hear coming from the other room, and Dan realizes that it’s the first moment of peace he’s really had all day. A little overcome with emotion at the thought, he reaches over to grab Phil’s hand, squeezing gently.

“Alright, it appears that this side of things is in order. Now, for the ceremony itself. I’ll start with a word of welcome, explain the purpose of the ceremony, and then we’ll have the declaratory and contracting vows. You’ve opted for the more modern-traditional versions of both, yes?”

Phil nods, glancing at Dan for reassurance. “Yes, I think so?” His voice lilts up at the end with uncertainty.

Dan smiles, but nods in agreement. “Yes, we did.”

“Perfect,” Richard says, making note of something on what appears to be a script or itinerary of some sort. “I see you’ve opted out of reciting any personal vows for this ceremony, correct?”

Dan hesitates, glancing at Phil, who is already looking back at him with a soft gaze. “I… think so. We’re having a reception sort of thing after this and we wanted to save that for later,” Dan says, almost shyly.

Richard has a kind look on his face when Dan looks back at him, something about it almost fond. “I admire that. When my partner and I did this many years ago, illegally, of course, we did much of the same thing. It’s a beautiful memory.”

The confirmation of a suspicion that had been nettling at Dan surprises him more than he’d expected it might. He smiles brightly at Richard, a new appreciation for this stranger sprouting in his heart already. “Thank you for sharing that,” Dan says as genuinely as he can. “I can already tell this day will be the same for us.”

Richard smiles at him and nods. “I hope it is.” He looks back to his list again, clearly trying to find his place. He hums when he finds it, tapping his pen on the paper before looking back up at them. “Then we will have the exchange of rings. I’m assuming you’ve brought those with you?”

Dan nods. “Our oldest son, Levi, is holding onto them for us.”

Richard looks amused by this. “It’s not very often the older children want to be a part of these things, so that’s refreshing to hear.”

Phil laughs at that. “He was actually the only one of the three that wanted to be involved. When we told them we weren’t going to have a huge ceremony, our twins kind of just gave up on us. I don’t think they realized how boring weddings really are.”

This pulls a loud laugh from Richard, and he swipes at his eye behind his glasses. “Oh, how right you are about that. This is my thirtieth year in the business, and it’s certainly not as exciting as you’d think.”

Phil nods. “I can believe it.”

“So the twins won’t be involved with this ceremony in any capacity?” Richard asks, getting right back to business.

Dan shakes his head. “No, they’ll be doing something for the reception later, instead.”

Richard nods, and makes another note. “Right. So after the rings have been exchanged, I’ll announce you as legally married, and your witnesses will sign the register. You’ll be presented with your certificate at the end, and then you’re done.”

“Great,” Dan says, nearly collapsing in relief already, just at hearing those words.

Richard smiles, and it looks somewhat apologetic. “Just two more things, I’m afraid. One, for the music selection - would you like this to be played after the declaration, or before? I noticed it’s an instrumental piece so if you’d like, it can start at the exchange of the rings, and will sort of carry us through the end of the process.”

Dan glances at Phil before replying. Phil’s got a soft, thoughtful look on his face, and Dan can tell already that he loves the idea.

“That would be perfect,” Dan says.

“Lovely,” Richard nods, jots this down as well, then sets the pen down and looks back up at them, propping his elbows on the desk and lacing his fingers together just in front of his chin. “Now, final detail. Would you like to be introduced as Mr. and Mr. Howell-Lester, Howell, or just Lester? I’m assuming the two of you have a preference?”

Dan chews on his lip in quiet deliberation, studiously avoiding making eye contact with Phil. He knows what he wants, what they’ve already agreed on, but he’s afraid that the answer he’s about to give will offend him somehow.

“Er…” Dan starts dumbly.

“I think we decided on Howell-Lester,” Phil says smoothly.

Dan’s eyes nearly roll out of his sockets in their haste to catch a glimpse of Phil’s lying face. “What?” Dan asks quietly, hoping Richard doesn’t pick up on the panic in his tone. This is not at all what they’d agreed on.

Phil gives Richard an apologetic smile before leaning closer to Dan, quirking an eyebrow. “I know you said you wanted to change your surname, and I’m still fine with that. But, I think since both of our families are here, it might be a nice gesture to have the joint name. Just this once.”

Dan sits back then, surprised yet again that they were on the same wavelength, without having said a word to each other. Dan had been worried about exactly that since his Nan had shown up, and just like always, Phil’s already thought of the solution. “Huh. Okay.”

Richard seems to take this as his cue. “So, Howell-Lester?” he says, double-checking.

Phil nods. “For the ceremony, yes. He’ll be changing his to Lester afterwards, though.” The reminder sends a tiny thrill through Dan, not that he’d ever admit that.

Richard nods, and makes a note. “Perfect. Well, that’s all I needed from you in terms of paperwork and details. Now, just to triple check, both of you are legally single as of right now, correct?” They nod, and Richard does the same after studying them. “I’m not sure why they still make us ask that. At this point in the process, we already know the truth, anyway,” he shares in a stage-whisper.

Dan laughs, at that, relieved to have a moment of comic relief before the serious part begins.

“Alright,” Richard says, getting his papers in order and standing. He gestures to the door with a wide smile. “Let’s have a wedding.”

~~~

The ceremony is short.

Dan hadn’t really expected anything different, but it’s still exhilarating, watching the hands on the clock tick by and knowing that before the hour has passed, he’ll be married to his best friend.

Richard is speaking, and Dan should be processing the words rather than just hearing them, but he’s staring at Phil, and Phil is pretending to look at Richard, even though Dan can tell he’s sneaking glances right back at him. It’s almost like, for just a few minutes, everyone else in the room has just disappeared. They’re the only two people in the world, and that should probably feel lonely. It should feel stiflingly lonely, that Phil could be the only person he’d ever see again.

It just feels like home, Dan thinks.

“Now, moving onto the vows,” Richard is saying. “Are you, Daniel James Howell, free lawfully to marry Philip Michael Lester?”

“I am,” Dan says, almost in a daze. Phil smirks, just a little.

“And are you, Philip Michael Lester, free lawfully to marry Daniel James Howell?”

Phil strokes Dan’s hand with his pinky. Dan’s heart is in his throat. “I am,” Phil says, his voice confident and self-assured.

“Lovely,” Richard says. It sounds like he’s smiling, but Phil’s finally meeting Dan’s gaze head-on, and Dan can’t be bothered to check. “Now, for the contracting vows.”

Dan is aware, vaguely, that those words are his cue to say something, but he blanks, staring at his forever in almost mute astonishment. This is real. They’ve made it.

“Ahem,” Richard clears his throat politely. “Daniel, if you will. The contracting vows begin, ‘I, your full name, take you…’ and so forth.”

There’s a vague smattering of laughter from the room behind them, and the reminder that they aren’t alone is what takes Dan out of his daze.

“Right, sorry,” he says quickly, no doubt flushed with embarrassment. “I, Daniel James Howell, take you, Philip Michael Lester, to be my wedded husband.”

Phil grins, reaching out and squeezing Dan’s hand gently. He glances at the registrar for reassurance, or the go-ahead, and when Richard nods, Phil turns back to Dan, smiling beautifully. “I, Philip Michael Lester, take you, Daniel James Howell, to be my wedded husband.”

Dan’s cheeks actually hurt from grinning by the time he registers Richard’s voice speaking again. “Now, if the bearer of the rings would come forward,” he announces.

Dan glances over to find Levi hovering nearby, a grin on his face as he hands the ring boxes to each of them. “Doing great, Dad,” Levi whispers before stepping back.

Richard moves his hand to subtly click something, and then soft music begins filtering through the speakers in the room. Despite the fact that they’d picked the music themselves, Dan is a little overcome with emotion at actually hearing the song play out, the first song they’d ever bonded over. If baby eighteen-year-old Dan could see him now, actually marrying Phil to the sound of this silly video game soundtrack music, he’d probably curl up into a ball and sob for days. This Dan kind of wants to do the same, if he’s honest.

Richard allows the music to play uninterrupted for a moment before speaking again. “These rings symbolize the bond you share, both emotionally, and now legally. You may exchange rings.”

Phil snaps his ring box open first, taking out Dan’s ring. It’s the same one that he’d worn ever since the fake-engagement charade started, but they’d become so attached to them that he can’t imagine wearing anything else. Except perhaps the beautiful diamond engagement ring that Phil had gotten him for Christmas, but that one stays firmly hidden away and protected unless there’s a special occasion.

But for this special occasion, they’d decided to go with their own rings. The ones that truly meant something to them.

Phil is careful as he slides the ring onto the fourth finger of Dan’s left hand, letting Dan’s palm rest on his own for a moment as if he’s admiring the view. Dan loves him for that, but he also doesn’t quite have the patience for it right now. He pulls his hand away long enough to open the ring box containing Phil’s ring, and repeats the process. As soon as the ring is snug around Phil’s finger once more, Dan lifts his hand, kissing across his knuckles sweetly. There’s an “aww” or two heard from their families, and Dan would place money on the culprits being Phil’s mum and his own Nan.

“It’s my honor to now declare you legally married. If you both, along with your two chosen witnesses, will step forward, you may sign the register.” Richard holds the pen out to Phil first, glancing at Dan with a smile. “Who will be your witnesses?”

“Our mums,” Dan replies, turning around and gesturing for Kathryn and Karen to come forward. Kathryn nearly jumps out of her chair, and Dan has to bite his tongue to hold back his giggle. She’s got misty eyes and a handkerchief in her hand, but he’s never seen her look happier. His own mum is less weepy, but she looks… proud of him, actually. It’s not the expression he’d expected to see, and he knows he doesn’t have the willpower to unpack his feelings about it right now.

“Dan,” Phil says, holding out the pen. “Your name goes here,” he says softly, tapping the paper.

Dan nods, leaning over and signing his name neatly on the line. He relishes in seeing his own surname for what might be one of the last times. He won’t miss it much, he realizes with a start. It’s not like he’s got a father to feel connected to through that name, so losing it won’t feel that much like a loss, he reckons.

“Can I go next?” Kathryn asks, nearly bouncing on her feet.

Phil rolls his eyes, laughing at her good-naturedly. “Sure, Mum. Here.” He hands her the pen, and before she even signs the thing, she pulls him into a massive hug. “Whoa, Mum. Can’t breathe,” Phil jokes.

“I’m so proud of you, love,” she whispers. Dan feels like maybe that wasn’t meant for anyone to hear but them.

Phil pats her back gently. “I know, Mum,” he says softly. He gently guides her away, off towards the register, which she signs with much neater scrawl than Phil.

At last, it’s Karen’s turn. She takes the pen from Kathryn and gives Dan a smile, signing her name quickly and silently in the empty witness spot. She hands the pen back to Richard, who thanks her quietly. When she turns to go back to her seat, she reaches out and squeezes Dan’s wrist. “I love you, Bear,” she tells him with a smile. “And I’m proud of you.”

If Dan thought hearing Kathryn say that very sentiment would have him feeling choked up, he really wasn’t prepared for how he’d feel hearing his own mum repeat it. “Th- thanks, Mum,” he whispers wetly.

She squeezes his hand, then retreats back to her seat.

“I would like to present the two of you with your official marriage certificate, as well as introduce you, for the first time, as Mr. and Mr. Daniel and Philip Howell-Lester.”

Their guests applaud then, and Dan can feel himself flushing with all the attention. Phil’s arm comes up around his waist, dragging him in close to his side, and Dan has a very funny idea. Turning to Richard, he quirks an eyebrow questioningly. “Well, what do you say, Richard? Can I kiss the bride?” Dan jokes.

Richard laughs, but nods. “Of course.”

Phil gives Dan a surprised look, a twitch of his lips and eyebrows as if to say, ‘are you sure about this?’ but Dan reassures him with a silent nod before leaning in and pressing his smiling lips to Phil’s. It’s a short and sweet peck, no worse than they’d share any time in the privacy of their own home, but there is something about kissing in front of all their closest family that makes Dan squirm a little, that childlike fear kicking around in his chest and mind still.

That fear is settled almost instantly by the sweet way Phil cradles his face when he pulls away, the sounds of applause and hooting coming from their enthusiastic guests.

“I love you, Dan,” Phil whispers.

Dan smiles, pulls him into a tight hug. “I love you more.”

~~~

Dan didn’t expect the reception to be such a noisy affair.

And, well. That’s probably his own fault. He should have known that by inviting this many guests, most of which are their family, or at least very close friends, that there would be some level of noise to prepare for.

PJ and Chris had been engaged in a heated debate with Martyn and Adrian for nearly half an hour, about some band or musician Dan had probably never heard of. Louise’s husband was trying his best to follow that conversation, but poor Liam was clearly very lost. Louise thought this was hilarious, a fact she stated every time Bryony or Sophie had suggested they maybe do something to rescue him.

“It’s good for him to be uncomfortable every now and again,” Louise claimed. “Men aren’t forced to be uncomfortable nearly enough.”

The women had laughed at this, and Dan hadn’t been able to tell if it was at his own expense or not. Instead of sticking around to find out, he’d made an excuse to go socialize with the other guests, effectively escaping the conversation altogether.

Now, he finds himself standing under the cherry blossom tree in the garden, watching all his favorite people interacting right here in one place. It was truly remarkable that all these people, who he knew through various different means, would all find so much in common. He watches from afar as Levi and Charlotte toss snacks at each other, trying to catch them in their mouths and missing more often than not. His heart melts when his gaze shifts and he finds Adrian’s girlfriend making flower crowns with Amelia, Darcy, and Pearl. It takes him a second longer to scan for his youngest son, spotting Jaiden and Henry close to the small koi pond that Phil had begged for. Jaiden’s pinky is wrapped around Henry’s thumb, and he’s pointing at the various tiny fish in the water, Henry nodding along as he talks.

“People watching?” A voice suddenly says close to his ear.

Dan jumps, his hand flying to his chest in the most dramatic fashion possible. “Shit, you scared me,” he murmurs when he sees that it’s just Phil. His husband.

Phil smiles, lacing their fingers together and squeezing apologetically. “Sorry,” he says. “Everything okay?” he asks, sounding a little worried.

Dan nods, sighing as he looks back out at their people. “Yeah. Everything’s… Everything’s perfect, actually.”

Phil laughs. “I know what you mean,” he says softly. “Our mums are practically best friends now,” he says, gesturing over to where Kathryn and Karen are sat at the patio table, Dan’s Nan in between them.

“I know,” Dan agrees, smiling fondly. “I don’t even want to know what they’re talking about,” he says, rolling his eyes when Karen sees him looking and winks. “Where’s Dad?” Dan asks, glancing around curiously when he doesn’t see the Lester patriarch.

“Went inside to the loo. I think this amount of people makes him a little nervous. Especially since he doesn’t really know many of them.”

Dan nods. He feels a vague ache, somewhere in his chest, that his own father isn’t there to bond with Phil’s father over their shared hatred of social gatherings. But, to be fair, Dan’s dad is a bit of a cunt, and Dan can’t imagine him and Nigel getting on that well.

“Promise me something?” Dan says softly, his eyes roaming back over to their own children.

“Anything,” Phil says immediately, squeezing Dan’s hand.

Dan smiles. It fades quickly when he considers the promise he needs Phil to make him. “Promise me… that no matter what happens, we’ll be there for them. We won’t ever let our children stand on the outskirts of a moment that belongs to them, wondering why one of their parents doesn’t care enough about them to show up.”

Phil makes a soft, wounded noise. “Dan…” His arms come up to hug Dan close, and Dan lets himself be held as his breath shakes. He didn’t realize how much he was hurting over this, but now that it’s out there, he just needs a minute to… to grieve.

“Promise me,” Dan demands in a broken voice.

Phil shifts, kissing him firmly before pulling away to stare at his face. “I promise. You have no idea how easy of a promise that is to make, Dan. I… I don’t ever want to be apart from you, or from this family. Our kids will never feel like this. I swear.” His voice cracks twice, and Dan has to tug him back in, rubbing his back and shushing him gently as Phil lets out a few tears of his own.

Dan can still feel the party breathing all around them, the talking and laughter, but for right now, it’s just them. It’s just them and this moment of hurt that needs time, and maybe a snuggle, to heal. They stay like that for just a few minutes longer, and then Dan pulls away, knowing they need to return to this party, this moment that belongs to them.

“Love you,” Phil says quietly, kissing Dan’s temple gently.

Dan’s heard it a thousand times, probably. And yet, it still makes his heart soar like it’s the first. “Love you most,” Dan replies, squeezing his hand.

“Is it time for speeches?” A voice interrupts them from behind Phil.

Phil, predictably, startles at first, then turns to glare at his brother. “What?” He asks, even though Dan’s fairly certain he’d heard him.

Martyn rolls his eyes. “Is it time for speeches? You said we could speak, right?” He waves a piece of folded paper impatiently. “I’ve got notes, mate.”

Dan bites his tongue, glancing at Phil to see how he handles it. They had said that it would be nice for this part to feel a little more like a wedding reception, in that their families could say a few words, although nothing so dramatic and structured as a best man’s speech. Martyn, evidently, did not get that memo.

“Mar…” Phil starts, sounding exhausted already.

Luckily, they’re interrupted yet again by some commotion at the back door.

“Look who I found lurking about outside!” Nigel announces cheerfully as he gestures to three new guests.

Phil perks up immediately when he spots them, and while it takes Dan a split second longer to catch up, he follows suit when he realizes who it is.

“Ian!” Phil exclaims, making his way over to his best friend with a giant grin. “I thought you all weren’t going to make it?” He pulls Ian into a hug, and Dan watches with a little smile as Ian squeezes him back, waving at Dan over Phil’s shoulder.

Ian smiles, but shrugs as he pulls away. “Well, it was a little last-minute to me, but Lauren actually orchestrated all the details herself,” he says, shaking his head fondly at his wife. “Surprised me with the train tickets this morning.”

Phil can’t seem to contain his smile, but this time he turns it on Lauren, who looks smug. “Then you’re the one I should be hugging! If you hadn’t gotten on top of things I wouldn’t have my best friend here today,” Phil jokes.

Lauren laughs, accepting the hug with grace, even as Phil practically envelopes her. “Believe me, he wanted to be here, he’s just a bit mental about taking a day off work for anything other than a dying emergency,” Lauren says, rolling her eyes.

“I understand that,” Dan says, gesturing at Phil with his thumb accusingly. “It’s practically orders from the Queen herself to get this one to take off work,” he complains. Mostly in jest, though, considering Phil has done so much better about caring about his life outside of work since they became a family.

Lauren giggles, even as Phil and Ian begin making their excuses. She waves them off, pulling Dan into a tight hug. “Congratulations,” she says to him softly. “I’m sorry we’re so late, Ems was a proper nightmare this morning.”

Dan turns, suddenly, realizing he hadn’t even greeted their daughter. “Where’d- oh,” he says, his voice going soft when he spots her. Amelia is guiding her back over to where she and the other children were playing, their arms linked together as they talk, gesturing wildly. Dan smiles when he sees this, and he can only imagine if his heart is melting at the sight, what Phil’s is doing, considering that’s his child and the child of his best friend. It’s sweet.

“I honestly don’t know how you two manage the three of them,” Ian says, clearly watching the same interaction taking place. He glances at Dan after he says it, looking apologetic. “Not that you can’t handle it, obviously, just-“

Dan laughs. “No, you’re right. It’s a lot,” he supplies, so Ian doesn’t have to feel awkward. “But… between the two of us, we manage.” He smiles at Phil, who seems about ten percent happier now that Ian and Lauren have shown up.

“We do,” Phil says, smiling right back at Dan.

“Speaking of doing…” Martyn’s voice says nearby, sing-songy.

Dan groans playfully, glancing over at him with a look of mock irritation. “We get it, you want to embarrass us,” he teases.

Martyn grins sheepishly. “Well… actually, we’ve got some nice surprises for you.”

At that, Dan is a little confused. “What?” They’d planned most of this reception, and had definitely given Martyn some free reign on what he could say or do for his share, but Dan wasn’t aware of any surprises.

“Yeah… is it time for food, do you reckon? I figured most of this can be done while everyone is eating,” Martyn is saying, but Dan realizes he’s mostly talking to Phil now.

Phil nods. He looks confused, too, but at least he seems to have his bearings enough to work out a plan for whatever is about to occur. “Uh, sure. The catering stuff is-“

“Already here,” Cornelia says, popping up at his side. “I had them set everything up just inside the door, so everyone can go through and select a meal option and come back outside to eat, or they said they can have one of the servers come out and get the orders and bring them out,” Cornelia rattles off these instructions rapidly, and Dan’s head is kind of spinning with all of this new information happening.

“Um…” Dan says, stalling a little, glancing at Phil for help.

Phil glances around everyone, clearly trying to decide. “Uh, maybe have them bring the food out. I’ll try to get everyone seated, and that would probably be less hectic.”

Cornelia nods, retreating back inside to relay the message. Dan is glad, suddenly, that they put her in charge of this part.

“Everyone,” Phil calls, his voice carrying across the garden beautifully. He’s almost lilting into his radio show voice, and Dan can’t help but smirk when he realizes it. “The food’s just arrived, so if you’ll find someplace to sit, they should start serving in just a bit,” he says. He glances over to Martyn, raising his eyebrows. “You mind helping corral people to tables while we check on the kids?”

Martyn nods. “Sure. Don’t forget, pride of place,” he says, gesturing to the table they’d situated on the patio for themselves. Renting the tables and chairs had been Dan’s idea, since he didn’t want to commit to so much permanent garden furniture, and he had to admit it was certainly convenient.

Phil rolls his eyes, but nods and waves him off before leading the way to the area of the garden where their children are still gathered.

“Jai-bird, you okay?” Dan calls when he notices Jaiden sitting off to the side alone, watching Amelia and Henry playing hide-and-seek with Darcy and Emily.

Jaiden has a little pout on his face, and Dan crouches down to get his attention. “Buddy?” He inquires, raising an eyebrow when Jaiden finally glances at him. “Everything okay?”

His son stares past him, an almost-glare on his face as he watches the other children play. Dan shares a confused look with Phil, but before he can say anything else, Jaiden finally answers.

“Henry is supposed to be my friend,” he says, crossing his arms petulantly.

“Oh… okay?” Dan replies, unsure of where this is going. “Is… did something happen, bubba?”

Jaiden huffs. “Not really,” he finally says. “He’s just not playing with me anymore.”

“Hm,” Dan hums, trying not to smile. Jaiden’s attachment to Henry is adorable. “Well… maybe you should join him and the others playing hide-and-seek. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind another player.”

Jaiden shakes his head like the idea disgusts him. “No, Henry said he’d play just with me, but then Mia came over and made him play with her instead.”

Phil makes a considering noise at that, and he and Dan share a secret little smile. If this is the worst parenting obstacle they have today, Dan will consider that a win. “Well… Mia can’t exactly make Henry do something he doesn’t want to do. Maybe Henry thought he should share his time with you and her both instead of spending it all with just one of you.”

Jaiden huffs, like that’s the worst answer he’s ever heard. “Doubt it,” he says glumly.

Dan has to bite his lip to hide his giggle, but luckily Jaiden is too hyper-focused on glaring at Henry that he doesn’t even seem to notice. “Well, maybe you guys should try to patch things up over dinner, huh, buddy?”

Jaiden finally glances at him. “Is the food ready?”

Dan nods with a smile. “Yep. We’ve just gotta go sit down, and they’ll bring everything out to us.”

That seems to be just the consolation prize Jaiden was looking for, as he jumps up and brushes the grass off his trousers like nothing happened. “Henry can sit with Mia, then. I’ll sit with you guys.”

Phil coughs around a laugh, and Dan blinks at him with a look he’s positive is bordering on hysterical. “Er, we’ve actually got a table set up just for the kids, bub.“

Jaiden’s face falls a little at that. “Oh… so I have to sit there?”

Dan’s heart twists a little at that. “Well… we’d like you to, so you can spend time with the other kids. And your dad and I are probably going to be moving around a bit with speeches and things…” he glances around then, like he’s got a secret. “And honestly? I think you’ll have more fun at the kids’ table,” Dan whispers conspiratorially.

It clearly takes him a minute to consider it, but finally, Jaiden nods. “Okay. If you say so.”

Dan smiles, reaching out and taking his little hand. “Alright.” He glances around to where the other children are still playing, although he can see Louise making a gesture at Darcy, and he’s sure that it won’t be long before Lauren comes to find Emily. “Mia! Henry!” Dan calls, waving them over when the look at him. “Come on, dinner!”

The magic word attracts almost all of the kids immediately, and it’s almost terrifying, having a little stampede of children racing towards him, then past him to the children’s table. Jaiden squeezes Dan’s hand once before releasing it, following after the others to join them.

Phil sighs. “I can’t believe how big they’re getting,” he says wistfully. He glances over his shoulder, and Dan knows without looking that he’s looking over at Louise and her youngest, Pearl, who’s practically already a toddler.

Dan reaches out for Phil, squeezing his hand gently and lacing their fingers together. “Soon. They’ve already found someone, we just have to wait for that final approval,” Dan reminds him, his heart racing as he thinks about all the hours of paperwork and interviews they’ve stressed over in the past few months, doing everything they can to solidify this adoption. As it turns out, adopting children you’re already fostering is far easier than adopting a newborn, despite what everyone may think.

“I know,” Phil says quietly. He squeezes Dan’s hand back, a small smile quirking at his lips. “I just hate waiting. I want to meet our baby so freaking bad.”

Dan nods, but glances around to make sure no one hears. This isn’t news they’ve shared with everyone here, and he doesn’t think it’s news they’ll be sharing at all tonight. There’s plans, tentative plans, to host a party sometime soon, after they get confirmation that the adoption will be proceeding, but right now they’re just plans.

“Me too,” Dan says softly before leaning in to press a kiss to Phil’s cheek. “C’mon, love. Let’s go join our party.”

~~~

They’re almost finished with dinner when Martyn stands up, gently clinking his wine glass with a spoon. “If I could have your attention, everyone,” he says with a grin, sounding somehow both sarcastic and genuine. Dan bites back a groan, but Phil makes a noise of displeasure loud enough for both of them. Everyone who notices laughs, and Martyn just flashes him a thumbs-up.

“We’re gathered here today to- god, sorry, I didn’t realize how posh I would sound saying that.” Martyn grins when the guests laugh at him. “Anyway. We’re here to celebrate my little brother and his person. If you don’t already know, Dan has been a part of our family for well over ten years, even when they thought we didn’t know.” He winks over at them, and Dan rolls his eyes. As long as he doesn’t mention the whole fake-engagement bit, Dan doesn’t care what he says.

Martyn looks over to Kathryn and Nigel, a small smile on his lips. “Mum and Dad have always said they just want the best for us, they just want us to be happy. And I think we’ve done them proud, you know?” He glances to Phil then, the smile shifting. “I don’t think everyone here fully understands all the things you two have had to overcome to get to this point, and obviously that’s not my story to tell. But as the older brother, I’m just thrilled that you got there in the end.”

Phil smiles back at him, squeezing Dan’s hand gently. He knows how rare it is for Martyn to show this depth of emotion, especially for his brother, and he knows it means the world to Phil.

“Anyway. Enough with the sappy. If you will, let’s raise a glass to… to happiness. Or whatever comes closest.”

There’s a smattering of laughter then, followed by the clinking of glasses as everyone toasts to them. Dan can’t deny how much he loves the attention, and he grins as he raises his own glass to clink against Phil’s.

“Now, I wanted to talk about something else, for a moment. Something a little more personal to these guys,” Martyn says, gesturing to Dan and Phil where they sit watching. “So, if you’re not super familiar with the situation, allow me to fill you in. A little over two years ago, my brother came to me and told me that he and Dan wanted to become foster parents.”

The guests are silent, and it’s almost as if everyone is holding their breath, waiting for whatever Martyn will say next. Dan reaches over and squeezes Phil’s knee. He’s not sure if it’s to comfort himself or Phil, but he finds that he needs the touch all the same.

“And of course, my first thought was… you’re crazy man!” Martyn grins as the crowd laughs, looking rather proud of himself. “But then… then I started thinking about what kind of people they both were. I thought about how good they were with mine and Cornelia’s own child, and I realized… I realized that any kid would be proper lucky to be part of their lives.” He looks over at them then, making brief eye contact with Dan before holding it with Phil. “And I’ll be honest, I’m ashamed of how long it took me to come around to accepting this choice of theirs. I thought it was too rash, they were too young. Not to mention the risk they’d be taking, allowing themselves to get attached to a child, only for that child to be taken away.”

Dan’s throat tightens at the very thought. His worst fear spoken aloud, even all these months after the adoption, still made him feel sick. He feels a warm hand slide into his own, squeezing his fingers tightly. He squeezes back, and listens.

“But, thankfully, that didn’t happen. And today we get to celebrate not only Dan and Phil’s love for each other, but their love for the three kids whom they got to bring into their lives.” Martyn turns to the kids’ table, giving a subtle nod. Understanding whatever that gesture indicates, Levi stands up, and the twins follow, the three of them making their way to stand behind Martyn. “And if everyone doesn’t mind, they’d like to say a few things now.”

Dan’s breath catches in his throat, and he and Phil share a confused, surprised glance. This wasn’t something they’d planned. He knew Martyn had said that he and Cornelia had worked out a way for the kids, especially the twins, to participate in the ceremony, but he hadn’t expected it to be like this.

They watch in silence, Dan’s fingers still curled tightly around Phil’s, as Amelia steps up beside Martyn. He gestures to someone behind Dan and Phil’s table, and then Cornelia is there, producing the little microphone that accompanied Amelia’s little karaoke machine they’d given her on their first Christmas together. Dan smiles at the memory, his eyes misting.

“Sorry about the audio supplies, everyone,” Martyn jokes into the microphone once they’ve got it turned on. “In order to keep this a surprise, we couldn’t set up the good stuff, so bear with us.”

Everyone laughs, Martyn winning the crowd over yet again. He hands the microphone to Amelia, murmuring something in her ear and squeezing her little hand in what looks like reassurance. She nods at him, smiling as he steps away from her, flashing a thumbs-up.

“Hello,” she says quietly into the microphone. There’s a little squeal of feedback, and she twists her face up, holding the microphone away from her until it stops abruptly. Dan glances back to find Cornelia tinkering with the controls, no doubt adjusting it perfectly before giving Amelia a smile to continue.

“Me and Jaiden wanted to make a speech together, but Jai gets nervous sometimes. But, that’s okay because I like to talk a lot.” The guests laugh, and Dan can’t help but join in, nodding along in agreement.

“So true,” Phil mutters from beside him.

“So, since Jaiden is a little shy, I told him I’d do most of the talking and he could write all my words for me.” Dan can tell by her cadence that most of this part is rehearsed, no doubt in secret with Levi or Martyn. Dan can feel his chest tightening at the thought of them doing something so special without anyone knowing.

Amelia turns then, gesturing Jaiden forward with a little wave. He shuffles forward slowly, tugging what looks like a little card out of his pocket. He holds it out between them, and Dan coos when he sees the way each of them have a hand on the card to hold it steady.

“Dan and Phil,” Amelia starts. A few people in the audience laugh at the use of their real names and she smiles widely. “We don’t really call them that, by the way. We call them dad, or daddy.” She looks back at the card, stumbling over herself for a second in an effort to get the words out. “We didn’t… oops. Wrong line.” She laughs nervously, glancing up and making eye contact with Dan. He can see the anxiety on her face and his heart aches at the sight.

“You’ve got this!” He whisper-shouts to her.

That seems to be the confidence boost she needs, as Amelia smiles, takes a deep breath, and looks back at her notes. “We came to live with you guys two years ago, and we were scared. We didn’t have a mom or a dad anymore. But that was okay, because you guys didn’t have any kids. We fit right in.” She smiles, then nudges Jaiden gently.

He reaches out for the microphone, his hand shaking just a little, and Dan feels the first tear fall at the way Amelia holds it steady for him while he reads his part. “We also didn’t have an older brother at first. But you guys knew what we needed, and you brought Levi home, too.” Jaiden looks up then, his eyes catching on Phil first, then sliding over to Dan. “You guys made us a family again.”

Oh.

Dan’s certain he’s going to be a sobbing mess if they say anything else, but luckily, that seems to be the end of it. That is, until Amelia takes the microphone back.

“We love you very much,” Amelia adds cheerfully, grinning over at them. The guests start to clap, and Jaiden slips away, but before Martyn can reach for the microphone, Amelia says, even louder, “I really would like a little sister, though!”

There’s barely a second of silence to process this before everyone bursts out laughing, including Dan. He swipes at the moisture under his eyes as he tries to control his giggles, but when he looks up to find Phil in a similar state of mirth, he just loses it all over again.

“Right, well… not sure Dan and Phil are taking those kinds of requests this evening,” Martyn jokes, setting everyone off laughing once again. When the laughter finally subsides, Dan watches as Martyn stands smiling at Amelia, shaking his head in disbelief. “God certainly makes you pay for your raising, huh?” He says, glancing over at Phil with a cheeky smile before waving at Kath. “Glad it’s you and not me, mate,” Martyn says to Phil.

Phil waves him off, laughing. “Just wait till Evan decides having cousins isn’t good enough.”

The other parents in the audience are clearly getting a laugh out of the exchange, but Martyn shakes his head, cutting it off to move on. “Now, Mia and Jai summed up their story pretty well, but Levi wanted to share something with his parents as well.”

Dan feels a familiar skip in his chest at hearing someone refer to him and Phil as the parents of these kids. It’s his greatest accomplishment in life, he’s sure of it.

Martyn hands the microphone over to Levi silently, and quietly ushers the twins over to the side while Levi clears his throat, taking out a folded piece of paper.

“Uh, hi everyone. I’m not really much for public speaking, so um… forgive me for how bad I am at it.” Levi glances at Dan and Phil briefly, before glancing over to the kids’ table, where Dan notices Charlotte giving him a reassuring smile. Dan’s chest feels tight, both at the joy in knowing his son has someone to be there for him like that, and also in the recognition the motion sparks for him, of a younger version of himself and Phil.

“Like the twins said, our dads started fostering them first. And later, they explained to me that they heard them talk about me. As soon as they realized I was their brother, they started looking for me.” Levi shares a long look with Dan. “Luckily, it didn’t take them long to figure out where I was at.”

Dan smiles at him. Levi smiles back before looking back down at his notes.

“I moved in with them and had nothing but a duffel bag of clothes and a really bad outlook on life. They gave me this great bedroom, all to myself, and I don’t know if I ever told you guys this, but dad…” Levi shakes his head, his voice cracking a little. “That was the first time I had a room to myself, a room where I wasn’t expected to sleep on the floor or on the sofa.”

Suddenly, Dan is pulled back to a memory over two years ago, of the first day he brought up fostering to Phil. The movie The Blind Side flickers through his memory, Michael’s soft voice saying, “I’ve never had one before. A bed.”

Dan can’t help the way he takes Phil’s arm in a death grip, or the way he chokes on his breath in an effort not to cry.

“And that wasn’t all they gave me. In fact, it sort of just never stopped. They gave me clothes, food, school supplies. They helped me with my homework, and we ate dinner as a family and talked about our days. They came to my room and told me goodnight, every night. Even on the nights when I didn’t think I wanted them to.”

Levi stops for a minute then, and Dan watches, his heart a lead weight in his chest, as Levi wipes his eyes with the cuff of his sleeve. “Sorry,” he laughs wetly. “I’ve wanted to say all this for a while. I could honestly say so much more, all the things they did for me- all the things they still do for me, actually- but… I think the most important thing is that they just… they loved me. From the very first day, even when I was rude or quiet, or when I told the twins not to call them ‘dad.’ They never let any of that get in the way of them loving me.”

Dan has resigned himself to the fact that he’s fully crying now. He’s just letting it wash over him, stroking a hand down Phil’s arm for comfort.

“So that’s really…” Levi says, a conclusive tone to his voice. “That’s really all I wanted to say. I saw a lot of foster homes before I came here. And I think Amelia was right. We did fit right in. Because you guys needed us, and we needed you. And I’m really glad you guys could make space for all of us in your life.” Levi smiles and turns the microphone back over to Martyn before stepping closer to their table.

Dan stands up immediately and pulls him into a hug, squeezing him tightly. “We love you, Levi. So much.” He mumbles before pulling away, letting Phil take his place for a hug. He hears Phil murmur a similar sentiment, and watches with a wet smile as Phil kisses the top of Levi’s head, ruffling his hair afterwards.

Amelia nearly jumps into Dan’s arms then, and Dan has mostly drowned out the sound of the crowd reacting to Levi’s speech until he hears them laughing at Amelia’s antics. “Our sweet, talkative girl,” Dan teases, brushing a strand of wavy hair behind her ear.

Amelia shrugs innocently. “What? I just spoke the truth!”

Dan rolls his eyes, hugging Jaiden where he clings to his leg before passing his daughter off to Phil for his turn. “I’m very proud of you,” Dan says, kneeling to talk quietly to Jaiden. “You and Mia had a beautiful speech. Thank you.”

Jaiden shrugs, but has a little grin on his face when Dan hugs him.

“Alright, as adorable as this has been,” Martyn is saying in a teasing voice. “I believe our last order of business is the vows of the newlyweds.”

Their guests applaud at this, and Dan smiles as he watches his kids go back to their table among the noise and chatter.

“I guess that’s us,” Phil jokes in response to Martyn, standing to get the microphone.

“Wait,” Dan says, catching his shirtsleeve gently. When Phil looks at him in confusion, Dan smiles shyly. “Can I go first?”

Phil smiles back. “Of course,” he replies, gesturing for Martyn to hand him the microphone. He squeezes Dan’s hand before sitting back down.

They’d agreed beforehand that they wanted this to be a little informal, with whoever wasn’t speaking remaining in their seat until it was their turn to give their vows. Dan’s regretting it just a little now that he’s the only one stood up with a microphone, but if there’s one thing he can do, it’s talk.

“Hello again, everyone. First, I want to thank you all for coming tonight. I know this wasn’t a very traditional wedding, but when Phil and I were going through the planning process, there were… several roadblocks.”

Phil snorts at this, and Dan grins, knowing that he’s not even giving an accurate word to how many aches and pains they tried to navigate around in order to make this their perfect ceremony. He decides those details aren’t really relevant here, though.

“While we were planning this wedding, we started with something really ambitious. An outdoor wedding in the country with a reception area with a dance floor, catered food, fancy attire, the whole traditional nine yards. But then, we realized a few things. One of which was how freaking hard it is to plan a wedding and honeymoon with three kids and full time jobs to work around.”

This gets him a few laughs, and Dan smiles, building up his courage a little. “Not to mention we were moving house and doing some other things that required more attention than we could realistically split between this many important life events.” He doesn’t specify, but he catches Phil’s eye and knows he caught the reference to the future adoption.

“In the end, we realized there was no reason to stick to a traditional wedding. Nothing about our relationship has ever been traditional, so we sort of figured… why should we bother? As long as everyone we love is there, then it doesn’t matter what the wedding looks like or where it’s at.”

He glances around at everyone, all their friends and family. Their parents, their children. And finally, his gaze slips back to Phil. “But honestly… and I apologize in advance, but, even if everyone here had cancelled and it just left Phil and I and the kids… this would still be the most perfect day.”

Phil’s eyes are a little glassier than they were just a minute before, and Dan resists the urge to reach forward and comfort him. Dan just gives him a soft look before continuing.

“And I think that’s the point, right? Of marrying someone? Loving them so much that every day feels like a little adventure. Even when we argue over whose turn it is to carry out the bins, or who forgot to close the kitchen cabinet, or whether or not socks go on the coffee table, which they decidedly do not-“

“Getting a bit off-track, aren’t we, love?” Phil interrupts him to joke, much to everyone’s amusement.

Dan laughs along with everyone else. “Right. But even that, those little things, it’s… it’s my favorite thing. And… I know some of you here know the specifics of our relationship and the way it’s changed in the past ten years, but to be honest with you… it hasn’t.” He looks at Phil then, and he’s trying not to cry. “He’s still my best friend. He’ll always be my best friend, and I’m so sorry to Ian, but I’m his, as well.”

Dan hears scattered laughter, and glances over to grin at Ian, who shakes his head in mock disapproval, a paradox to his massive grin.

“I think that’s why we work so well, why it’s felt so easy to start our parenting journey together, and to move house and everything else we’ve done together. He’s just… he’s my person. He’s my best friend, my companion through life…” he trails off, waiting for the people who are in on this particular joke to get it.

Phil starts laughing almost immediately, wiping away some stray tears, and Dan catches Martyn tossing his head back with a near-silent cackle of delight as well.

Dan smiles before continuing in a softer voice. “An incredible partner… an amazing father… like, my actual soulmate.” Phil reaches up then, and Dan catches his hand, pressing a kiss to the palm before collecting his thoughts. “The love of my life. And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life picking up his bloody socks.”

The applause is louder now than it has been the whole evening, but Dan can hardly hear it with the way blood is rushing to his head as he leans down to kiss Phil’s cheek softly. “Your turn,” he whispers, pressing the microphone into his hand gently before taking his seat again.

Phil stands on shaky legs, catching himself on the table. If anyone notices, they don’t react. He clears his throat, takes some notecards out of his pocket, smooths out his jacket, then begins to speak.

“Okay, I wanted to start off sappy, but funnily enough I also had something about the socks in my notes, if that gives any credibility to Dan’s side of things,” he begins, shuffling the cards in his hands like he’s not sure where to start.

Dan lets out a startled laugh at what he’d said, and Phil grins proudly before continuing. “I’m not really much for public speaking like this, but when Dan asked if we could say our vows in front of everyone, I agreed, because I knew how much it meant to him for his family and friends to hear this. Mainly because Dan is a brilliant little performer and can actually stand before a crowd and be unflinchingly vulnerable, so you’ll have to bear with me while I struggle through this.”

His hands are shaking, and if Dan didn’t know better, he’d say Phil was second guessing all this, as the behavior definitely reflected someone too nervous to be sure of their actions.

But Dan knew this man better than he knew himself. He knew this nervousness, this anxiety of speaking his truth for everyone he loved to hear it. He knew it because he felt it himself, to some degree. So he does the only thing he knows to do, reaching up to take Phil’s hand in a gentle grip.

Phil squeezes back, then looks at his notes again, quiet for a minute. He puts them down and clears his throat. “I wrote them down just in case I got too nervous to speak, but I don’t need a piece of paper to tell me what to say about how much I love this man.”

Dan’s breath catches in his throat. It’s so quiet in the garden, Dan’s certain even the bugs have stopped chirping.

Phil smiles down at Dan with a fond, loving gaze. “He’s charming, clever, and compassionate. I’ve never known a version of him that didn’t possess those qualities, and I promise you in the years I’ve known him, I’ve known many different versions of Dan. But this one… this one is my favorite. This one wakes up early to get our kids up for school when I’ve had a late night and can’t do it. This one does the grocery shop so I don’t have to, and because I’ll get the wrong thing anyway. This one lets our kids pick the movie, even when he’s so tired of watching Moana he could choke. This one can’t do laundry for shit, but he still chases down every stray sock in the house to put in the laundry, after he lets me have it for leaving them in… strange places.”

There’s laughter at this, and Dan rolls his eyes theatrically, gesturing to Phil with a fond “this guy,” comment muttered under his breath.

Phil gets quiet after everyone laughs and then he brushes Dan’s curls back, smiling when Dan leans into the touch. “This one calls in sick when he needs it, instead of running himself to the bone. He double and triple checks my bags for every trip I take, just so I don’t forget something. He offers to take the night shift when one of our kids is sick, and you’ll never, ever hear him complain. This one just… loves. He loves me, and our kids, so much it’s baffling sometimes. He loves me even when I feel like I don’t deserve it. When I’ve been unkind, or when I’ve made a mistake.” Phil’s voice wobbles uncertainly, and Dan feels his fingertips brushing away a tear on his own face before he even realizes he’s crying.

“Sorry,” Dan mumbles, sniffling. He catches the hand Phil used to stroke his face, pressing kisses to the back of it in some attempt to release all this fond energy.

Phil smiles. “This one holds my hand. Always.” A couple people coo at this, and Phil looks around, like he’d forgotten he’s speaking to a group. “I don’t think many people get the chance to know a love like this in their lifetime. I never thought I would. And I promise to never take that for granted.”

Phil doesn’t quite make it back into his seat before everyone is clapping yet again, and before he can even react to that, Dan’s got a hand on his chin, tugging him in for a good proper kiss, right there in front of god and everybody. It’s not as chaste as Dan usually is in front of other people, but he feels like he can be a little extra romantic, given that it’s his wedding day and all.

A few people hoot when they don’t pull away instantly, and Dan feels his face flush when Phil brings a hand to the back of Dan’s head to hold him in place just a few seconds longer. When they part for air, Dan rests his forehead against Phil’s, grinning at him. He could count every one of his husband’s eyelashes like this, easily. Instead he stares into that loving blue gaze, those eyes that haven’t changed in all the years he’s known them.

“I love you,” Dan murmurs softly, brushing his thumb gently over Phil’s cheekbone.

Phil kisses Dan’s nose. “Love you more.”

“I wasn’t ordained for all this,” Martyn jokes into the microphone, completely disrupting their moment. “I wasn’t ordained at all, actually. But I’d like to say it anyway. Introducing, for the first, er, second time… The Lesters.”

There’s a final round of applause before Dan and Phil finally pull away, Phil smiling bashfully as their guests cheer for them. Dan grins, taking Phil’s hand and holding it up triumphantly, as if to say, “look what I got!”

“Now… I think it’s time to party!” Martyn announces loudly, much to everyone’s delight. The guests begin clearing away from the tables, making their way back to the garden space to mingle and dance and drink, as someone begins playing music on the garden speakers they’d had installed when they bought the place. It’s a playlist curated by Martyn, no doubt meant to get people up and dancing, but Dan just hangs back for a second, watching all their loved ones mingling about in the garden, his heart swelled with love and happiness.

“You ready?” Phil asks from beside him, his voice soft.

Dan glances over to find Phil stood, one hand reaching out for Dan, no doubt in order to lead him out to the makeshift dance floor. Dan smiles, slips his hand into Phil’s, and nods.

“Always.”

[cheaploafs]

since i’m writing it now i guess i should share vampire au ? the comfort fic from my brain, this is meant to be their first kiss <3

[x]

[belladonnaswritingnook]

Alone Again

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne/f!reader

warning: *SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR THE BATMAN (2022)* [NSFW, minors DNI]

summary: After a long night out stalking the streets of Gotham City, Bruce comes home and into the comfort of your arms.

word count: 3.2K

a/n: first time writing bruce and posting on tumblr but not first time writing: my ao3 is here. soft fluffy smut? this was unexpectedly softer than i had imagined writing but i guess i got a lil in my feels. I know that the general consensus is that battinson is p much a virgin or at least pretty inexperienced in sex but i wrote this like he knew exactly what he was doing bc i cant help myself ;-; anywhoo, enjoy!

There was nothing quite like the feeling of relief that would flood within you every time Bruce finally came home for the night - or actually, day, you suppose. You would wait there in the batcave for hours and hours on end until you finally heard those rolling doors creak open and the loud rev of the Batmobile’s engine as it rolled into its parking spot.

And you did this every night once you had become aware of Bruce’s nightly routine as the Batman, becoming almost as much of a nocturnal creature as he was.

To be honest, it was a lot for you to take in - that your boyfriend, Bruce Wayne, the dubbed Prince of City, was the masked vigilante running Gotham’s streets every night. Ever since then, you had a small futon moved to the batcave and you’d either lie there, or sit in his desk chair and look at everything he had gathered - clues, notes and observations during each night.

It was clear to you from the get-go that this routine he had wasn’t the healthiest but this identity, the Batman, was important to him. It meant nearly everything to him - he felt it was the best way he could help the city that he couldn’t turn his back on. He donated whenever he could as Bruce Wayne, but what the Batman did was what he felt could truly make a difference.

Tonight was no different from any other night in that manner. Here you sat, perusing his desk and watching his location on the map displayed on his monitor - something he started doing for you to keep you aware of his whereabouts and if he was safe. Bruce tried to do check-ins when he could, but they weren’t always promised. Sometimes you would go the entire night without hearing from him. Those nights always had you edge, watching the screen for as long as you could before you inevitably fell out of consciousness for a couple hours, slumped over the keyboard.

You had just started to drift off when you finally heard the heavy rev of the Batmobile reverberate off of the cave walls. Your heart raced as you jolted in the chair, turning as quick as humanly possible, to watch the car roll into its proper spot. You patiently waited until he walked up the steps to the platform he had his entire setup on. You hated bombarding him, especially if he possibly had injuries.

His eyes always appeared so dark when he had the cowl on, menacing and brooding. It even startled you sometimes, you saw him in the suit, with the mask on. He took it off slowly, his energy level obviously low, the black kohl smearing across his cheeks. The night was long and he had spent most of it fighting.

You got up to let him sit down in the chair you had just been sitting in a few moments ago, inspecting him for any obvious injuries. He seemed to have sustained nothing but some mild cuts and bruises, which covered most of his body as he began to take off his armor now. The marks, while minor, still pained you to see on him. You didn’t like having to see one of the most important people in your life littered with scars and bloodied and bruised skin. Sometimes, admittedly, you thought Bruce was a little overconfident in his abilities, but you saw how he fought.

One of your first encounters with the Batman, long before you had become aware of his true identity, had been him saving you from a group of men looking to take advantage of a young girl waiting for a taxi late at night, an unfortunately common occurrence in Gotham. The street was unusually quiet as you waited near the curb. They took you by surprise and dragged you into a nearby alleyway without anyone else noticing - or so they thought.

Your heart had been pounding in your chest so hard, you thought that was the end of it all. You kicked and struggled as much as you could but there were too many of them and you couldn’t keep all of their hands off of you all at once. You couldn’t fight them off, even with an adrenaline rush from being terrified for your life. You screamed and cried but nothing you did seemed to help - they only covered your mouth, holding your jaw to keep you from biting them.

And that was when you heard the loud and heavy thud of Batman landing just shy of ten feet away from the scene. His pace was so slow and menacing, even you winced when he made the first blow. The next few moments had been a blur for you - it all happened so fast. One moment you were pinned down on the musty asphalt of some alleyway and the next, five men lay on it, unconscious or doubled over and groaning, beginning to scramble away from your savior. You were in awe and wasn’t sure what to say besides a rush of ‘thank you’s’ and more ‘thank you’s’ and tears down your cheeks, washed away by the rain.

The brooding figure standing mere feet away from you hadn’t said a word in return, but he came forward to help you up off the ground, a gloved hand reaching out, and back to the safety of the dingy apartment you had been living in at the time. You remember how he held you close but you were so frightened of what had happened earlier that you had just embraced the comfort he had given you. Sometimes, you look back and don’t understand how you could have been so stupid to not have seen right through him. Now, it seems too painfully clear.

Though, you had known from the moment you met Batman’s gaze that there had been something familiar about him, but you couldn’t quite place what it was. The cowl did just a good enough job of concealing enough of his face away from you. And it was something that puzzled you for days on end. Life continued as normal after that night though.

It wasn’t until you came to the mansion one night on a random whim of wanting Bruce’s affection that you had finally found out. He had just walked out of the elevator that led down to somewhere you hadn’t been in the Wayne Manor before. He was wiping his eyes, smudging the black paint across his face, just before he had seen you. The moment his eyes with black painted around them had met yours, you had known it right then. It all clicked so quickly after that. All those puzzle pieces came together. Everything between the two of you had changed between that moment. Bruce did try to convince you that he wasn’t but you knew better and he conceded.

You had become much closer to Bruce since that moment - he let you in. While you wished he had told you by trusting him, you were grateful that he didn’t shut you out after you found out through a random accident. From then on, you helped him as much as you could on information he needed to gather, solving bits and pieces he needed extra insight on or just comforted him when he finally came back home. And that was what you did tonight.

You helped him take off the pieces of his suit, one at a time. With his armor off now, he motioned for you to come over to him with a small gesture of his fingers. And you obeyed, pulling him into an embrace silently. A lot of communication between the two of you occurred silently. Bruce wasn’t the greatest man at communicating his feelings but luckily you were able to understand him. And tonight he was very quiet. You knew he had a lot on his mind with the major’s murder as well quite a few other seemingly corrupt figures. There had also been messages left for the Batman at the crime scenes, the secrets of the city unraveling with every murder and every subsequent riddle. There was no wondering why exhaustion lined his eyes.

He only had the clothes he wore under the suit on, slightly damp with sweat and blood, you took him by his hand to lead him upstairs to the bathroom where you bathed him slowly, cleaning and washing away his blood from the small injuries he sustained. Every wound and inch of bruised skin your hands washed over was a reminder to you that life was finite and that anything could happen. You savored every moment you had with Bruce because there was no guarantee he was making it back home into your arms every night.

Once he was clean, dried and somewhat dressed for bed, there was a peaceful silence between you two for a little while. You had left him alone for a few minutes, getting him a drink and a small snack for him to eat before he slept. On nights like this, where he had barely spoken a word since he arrived home, you knew better than to ask him too many questions. Instead, you did what you could to care for him.

When you came back, with a glass of water in one hand and a small wrapped sandwich in the other, you saw Bruce just sitting at the end of his bed, looking out the large window across from his bed. It was pouring rain as usual in Gotham, the window freckled with droplets of water across its panes. He seemed in deep thought as usual - likely thinking about the case he has been working on concerning the Riddler’s clues and hints and the major political figures in Gotham’s deaths. You set them the water and sandwich down on the bedside table, coming to stand beside him and press kisses to temple and hair, dragging your hands across his back and chest.

Bruce responded, his fingers crawling up to touch yours, bringing the hand that had been on his chest up to his lips, kissing them lightly. He tugged you slightly, gesturing for you to slip on to his lap, and you did. It wasn’t as lustful as it could have been, at least not at first - he simply hugged you, wrapping his arms around you so that one of his hands was at the nape of your neck, interlacing with the roots of your hair there, his other hand at the small of your back. His head was tucked into your neck, his lips pressing kisses up the side of your flesh.

He knew your neck was a sensitive spot and you felt your body tense up, stifling any sort of sound as your hands balled into fists, the material of his shirt caught in between your fingers. And then his tongue darted out and slowly traveled up and up to the curve of your jaw; you could feel the smirk forming on his lips as your thighs tightened around him. He sucked a small love bite there before he gave a small tug at your roots, tilting your head upward and his tongue slipping across your jawline.

“You know that you’re such a good girl for me, right?” Bruce whispered against your skin. You gave a small hum of confirmation and he stood up with you in his arms, the one against the small of your back tight against your body. He brought you to be level with him, bringing his mouth down on yours. You just kissed for a moment, his tongue slipping in between your lips before he turned around and laid you both down across the bed.

He pinned his arms on either side of your head before he leaned up to take his shirt off and you took the opportunity to strip yourself of yours as well. He looked down at you in appreciation before tugging at your sweatpants.

“These need to come off.” A simple command and off they went. You slipped them down your legs, kicking them off onto the floor with your feet. He smiled and bent over your body, kissing down your skin starting at the last place he left off at your jaw. All the way down to the hem of your panties. “Mm, these too.” You giggled as he hooked his fingers under the thin material and pulled them down your legs and threw them off to the side. “Much better.”

Bruce’s hands ran up the sides of your legs, stopping just short at the crease of your hips. “You do so much for me, baby… Let me show you my appreciation.” He sighed as his lip tucked under his teeth with a smile. “I love seeing you like this.” He hooked his arms around your legs and pulled you down the bed to meet him, his head dipping to your center.

His tongue came out between his lips, flat and wide to lick a large strip up your lower lips. You groaned, your hands darting down to thread through his black mass of hair, and he pulled your legs up and off to the side to open you up. He circled his tongue around your lips before he lapped at your pussy, sucking every so often at your clit and letting his tongue dip inside of you. He kept his eyes on you, roaming all over your body but mostly watching your expressions, the way he pleasured you, and let a low moan out, the sound reverberating through your very core.

“Oh- Fuck, Bruce, just like that,” You sighed and moaned, your fingers tugged at the roots of his hair and he groaned with pleasure before he brought his middle and ring finger to his mouth, sucking on them for a moment before rubbing a few small circles around your clit and inserting them inside of you.

He started out slow, just curling his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion as the base of his palm pressed against your clit. Your mewls and cries were soft and muted as you bit your knuckles as you held Bruce’s gaze, his blue-green eyes so dark with lust and want in this moment. You folded in on yourself as the pressure began to build low in your gut, your hips wiggling and your legs shaking to close but he kept them spread wide open. Bruce was like your conductor and your body was singing for him. He pressed kisses to the inside of your thighs, hot and wet, as he pistoned his fingers inside you.

You felt tears pool at the sides of your eyes from the pressure of being so close to orgasming when he finally slowed down that you cried out, your grip on his hair tightening and he moaned.

“Mm, yes good girl, just like that. Cum for me now.” He curled his fingers once more in a fluid motion. “Right now.” And that was the straw that broke the camel’s back - you came undone with a scream and your body shook in the aftermath. He rewarded you with praise from his lips, kisses all the way up your body to your own lips, his tongue invading you once again. You tasted yourself on his tongue and you felt your arousal climbing up already. A low groan from him reverberated within you and you felt yourself melting into him.

“Bruce- I need you, please,” you whispered into his ear. He nodded as he settled his hips in between your thighs, letting his cock rub against your soaked folds and you twitched at the slight pressure. His cock slowly slid inside, filling you completely in one slow thrust until his hips were flush with yours, his groin rubbing against your clit as fucked you.

On nights like this, the sex wasn’t rushed - it wasn’t as animalistic and primal as it could have been - it was slow and soft and comforting. Something you both needed. Just like you needed him and he needed you, deeply and completely. He began to shift inside you now, his hips rolling slowly and in evenly measured strokes. You felt every little thing when the sex was like this. You felt every vein and curve and ridge of his rock against the soft walls of your pussy.

Both of your sighs and your wetness between you filled your ears and it was the most satisfying sounds that filled your head. You felt yourself bury down into this feeling - this was the closest to Bruce you could be without words. Every slow thrust was a thousand words he couldn't say - all of the repeated apologies and "I love you's".

He brought himself up to completely cover you, his arms up and around your head, your legs tucked up underneath them and ankles hooked at the small of his back. It felt like an endless and ever-deepening cavern you found yourselves falling into at times like this. You swore you lost yourself a few times, only catching yourself at a particularly deep thrust.

"I love you, Bruce," You couldn't stop the words from falling out from between your lips and you felt the tears sliding down your cheeks as you tighten your arms around him, fingers intertwining with the roots of his hair at the nape of his neck. "I love you so much."

You knew he wouldn't say it back, he wasn't that outright in saying something so vulnerable like that. But he nuzzled himself closer, tucking his face closer into the crook of your neck, leaving small kisses. You could feel him beginning to shake as he upped his pace, his cock throbbing and quivering inside of you, ready for release. He always waited for you as long as he could. Your own telltale signs were surfacing, the tightening in your lower gut and everything throbbing.

"Bruce-!" You couldn't say it fast enough, everything quaking as your release took hold. You squeezed him under your hold and he did the same, his own release matching yours. You both swore under your breath, riding out your highs as his movements slowed and your bodies relaxed.

You laid there for a few moments, catching your breath as you rested. You often wished you could lay there for days with him, that Gotham didn’t call out to the Batman and that you could selfishly keep Bruce away from all of the hurt and stress it all caused him. But you knew that that was a pipedream and that you’d have to share him with the city for as long as you were together. Batman was a part of him and he wasn’t going away anytime soon.

The light of day was hidden away from the room but you knew roughly what time it had to have been. Bruce separated himself from you for a moment to clean you both up before curling up with you on his side, tucking you against his chest and wrapping his arm around you. SLeep took you swiftly, with Bruce’s comforting weight around you.

And when you woke, there you were in his bed. Alone again.

[cockslutpadalecki]

Sweet But Psycho

Summary: Y/N despises the man who broke up her parents marriage, but when her new stepfather stops vying for her approval, and an accidental encounter makes her see him in a different light, she begins to make his life hell in a completely different way.

Characters: Stepdad!Bucky x Stepdaughter!Reader

Words: 1769.

Warnings: stepfather/stepdaughter relationship, age gap (reader is 18+), daddy kink, voyeurism.

A/N: A rewrite of a very old fic that I wrote while in another fandom. Yes, I am a slut for the stepanything trope. And no, I’m not ashamed. Betas: @sweeterthanthis and @nasabeck, but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Masterlists can be found in my pinned post. Subscribe to Patreon and get access to fics, just like this one, two weeks before Tumblr for as little as $3.

With one magnificent thrust, he slides inside you, filling you right up to the hilt. You groan under your breath, shifting your hips back and forth in time to meet his slamming in the opposite direction. The tips of his fingers dig into your skin—just hard enough to bruise as he uses the grip to control his thrusts, pounding into you desperately from behind.

“Fuck. Harder,” you order, the words hissing through your teeth. His rhythm picks up instantly, and your eyes flutter closed at the increase in speed, feeling the tip of his cock brush your cervix. 

While the rest of the house is silent, the sound coming from behind you— that wet slap of skin on skin, echoes profanely off the walls, until a key shifting in lock of the front door makes your eyes spring open. His hips begin to stutter to a halt as you snap your head around to glare at him. 

“I didn’t tell you to stop." 

He looks like he’s seen a ghost. "But your Dad—”

You watch his eyes drift over your head to the corner of the room, and you try to stifle the small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. 

Right on time.

“Keep going,” you command, before turning back to lock eyes with the man that stands in the doorway. If your lover was put off by the sudden appearance of someone else, he didn’t show it, his thrusts quickly building back up to a scintillating rhythm. “Hi Daddy.” 

You take a moment to marvel at his features, even though you’d recently come to memorise them— full pink lips framed by perfectly sculpted stubble that you spent too many nights wishing you could shove between your thighs. The kind of sharp and strong jawline that you ached to bruise and marr with your teeth, and a pair of lust-blown icy cerulean eyes so irrevocably enticing you find you can’t tear your gaze away. 

Your lips finally manipulate into a satisfied smirk, little whimpers falling from between them with every deep thrust. The man slowly edges into the room, unable to take his eyes off you. He comes to stand in front of you, leaning against the wall behind him as your eyes fall to the rapid swelling in his slacks, your bottom lip captured between your teeth, aching to feel his cock swell inside you instead.

“Are you jealous?” you cajole breathlessly.

“Yes,” the man at the wall manages to choke, hands curled up into tight fists, eyes glazing over. With his lips slightly parted, he breathes out deeply as the guy behind you is completely over his stage fright, fucking into you like there’s no tomorrow. 

This is just the reaction you were hoping to get. And now you’ve got James exactly where you want him.

-

James “Bucky” Barnes married your mom three years ago, and you despised the sight of him. He tried so hard to bridge the gap between you, and at every opportunity, you pushed him away. He didn’t deserve to be here— in your house, in your mom’s bed after your parents had only split six months earlier. In your eyes, they were both to blame for your father walking out, and you weren’t going to let them forget their mistakes in a hurry. 

You worshipped the ground your father walked on, and to have your mother disrespect him in the worst way meant she had disrespected you too. 

As soon as James moved in you made his life hell, up until you turned eighteen, and then everything changed. He stopped trying to gain your approval. He gave up on attempting to be your friend, and deep down it frustrated you. You secretly liked the attention he gave you, even if you hadn’t reciprocated it. 

A year passed in contempt. It wasn’t until summer break, while you were home from college, that your rancor amalgamated into a potent mixture of hating the sight of him swaggering through the home you still didn’t consider his, and wanting to ride him into the middle of next week.

It was one am when you quietly slipped through the front door after spending the night at a party, the sleepy silence violently shattered by his coarse cacophony of grunts and moans. It clung to you like a mist as you tiptoed upstairs, and followed you right into your bedroom— igniting something so raw inside you that you ended up coming just as he hit his own peak. 

The following night, innocuous dreams began shape shifting into depraved ones— consisting of James subduing you with a pillow as he fucked you while your mom, entirely unaware, slept next door. Soon they became a regular occurrence, the excitement of going to sleep similar to the nights you spent studying, and the sight of your bed never looked so inviting. 

After that, you began to see him in a different light, now paying him the attention he had previously wasted on you. You found yourself teasing him— parading around the house in nothing but a small towel after a shower, leaving your door open when you’d change, and once, when your mom was away for the evening, you made sure to enunciate your heady cries just enough as you came, knowing full well he’d be able to hear you through the wall.

Your mom was thrilled you were finally starting to get along, but she was completely oblivious to the sexual tension that was building between you with every day that passed. You wanted him— you needed him, but he wouldn’t have it. He rejected you once, sending you into an almost murderous rage, and you refused to allow him to humiliate you like that again, but that didn’t stop you. You were going to get James to fuck you one way or another. Even if he had to watch another man do it first. 

-

You don’t even know the name of the guy kneeling behind you, and you don’t care. After striking up a flirtatious rapport with him at a party, you invited him home with the sole intention of coming just as James arrived back from the bar he’d been recently frequenting. With your mom out with friends, this was the perfect opportunity to put your plan into action.

“Oh god, you’re so deep,” you simper, your stare locked firmly on James, wishing your words were aimed at him to praise, not to make him envious. Watching the delectable way his tongue sweeps across his bottom lip, you direct your question straight at him. “You like watching me get fucked, Daddy?”

He nods silently, the anguish on his face clear for you to see. Continuing to whine, you make sure to keep eye contact with him as your body shunts forward involuntarily with every deep thrust. The guy’s hand snakes up to your shoulders, forcing you backwards, and you hiss through your teeth at the change in sensation. 

“Yes, shit, right there.” 

You watch intensely as James stands transfixed— entirely mesmerised by the scene unfolding in front of him. Arching your spine, you push yourself further back onto the guy’s dick, feeling your core begin to flutter with the onset of release. 

“Fuck!” you cry, throwing your head backwards. As your gaze finds your stepfather’s once again, you manage to catch, at the edge of your periphery, the way he fidgets with his hands, balling them into fists and releasing them, you know he’s aching to put his hands to good use.

“You wanna touch yourself over me, Daddy?”

“Yes.” His voice is so deep, you almost feel it vibrating against your clit, just as a well angled thrust has your body almost shuddering to its end.

“Want me to come for you?” you mewl, the sweetness in your tone a complete antithesis to the words that just tumbled from your lips. 

“Yes,” he growls, inching closer to you.

“Can I call your name?”

He swallows deeply, and you watch as his Adam’s apple bobs beneath his bronzed skin as he nods, trying to keep his composure. You slip a hand down between your thighs and begin stroking at your clit, quickly matching the rhythm of the thrusts pounding into your pussy.

“I’m gonna come so hard for you, Daddy, fuck, fuck, James!” Your screams echo around the room, and try as you might to keep your eyes fixed on the man in front of you, the sheer heft of your orgasm forces them shut. It takes wave after wave of euphoria until you find the strength to open them again, and when you do, the darkness that transforms the cerulean in James’ eyes to an inky navy is almost incapacitating. 

You’ve barely stopped trembling from your high as he steps forward, suddenly gaining the confidence to push the other man away from you. 

“What the fuck dude?” the guy exclaims, flashing you a disgusted look.You just shrug at him with a playful smirk, “I haven’t even finished!”

“Get the fuck outta here before I get her to bite your fuckin’ dick off,” James scowls, leaning down, and scoops up the guy’s pants to throw at him. He hurries to scramble them back up his legs and rushes from the room.

“Your family is fucked up!” he shouts as James strides after him and you hear the door slam shut in the distance. 

Slumping back against the couch, you let out a delighted hum, pussy throbbing delightfully from your climax. The sight of James rounding the sofa pulls your attention towards him, his lips pulled tight into a frown, and his hands balled into fists at his sides. 

You scowl up at him, expecting a different reaction from the one you’re getting. He strides in front of you, and tentatively you spread your legs, watching in awe as James’ eyes widen at the sight of your cunt.

“Are you mad?” you press, shoving your hand between the apex of your thighs. He drags his bottom lip through his teeth, giving you a curt nod, as the tips of your fingers begin circling your clit. “Don’t be mad. It’s your turn to have a taste now, Daddy.”

He remains glued to the spot, unable to tear his gaze from your pussy as you dip your fingers through your folds, soaking them in slick. 

Realising he’s not going to make the first move, you slide slowly off the couch, and drop to your knees in front of him, hands brushing up his thighs teasingly, almost waiting for him to reject you yet again.

But this time, he doesn’t. 

***

Marvel: @adreamemporium @andreasworlsboring101 @blancatobarxoxo @buckys-henley @clemanime @cake-writes @chamberofsloths @caringparker @caspleasesavemyass @doctor-hp-mcu @deanwinchesterswitch @fanngirl19 @fandom-princess-forevermore @joseyrw @la-cey @negans-wife @p--ink @smokeandnailz @superblychaoticdragon

Forever: @anaelsbrunette​ @akumune​ @amandamdiehl​ @buttercandy16​ @crashdevlin​ @castiel-has-bees​ @daughterofthenight117​ @donnaintx @dandywinchesterbras​ @dumbbitchenergy17​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @demonxbloodrunsthroughtheseveins @foxyjwls007​ @hurricanerin​ @hoewkeye​ @heyyouwiththeassbutt​ @ilovefanfic86​ @itsjustfics​ @itsthedoctah10​ @imyournewfairygodmother​ @imcastiel-youassbutt​ @jewelswrites-ish​ @jenmisheels-bi-kid​ @letsby​ @letsdisneythings​ @multi-fandom-fanfiction​ @maddiepants​ @mogaruke​ @my-fav-imagines-17​ @nightsbite​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @pink1031​ @princessmisery666​ @petitgateau911​ @randomparanoid​ @ssworldofsw​ @sambucky8​ @sea040561​ @sillygoose6969​ @sweeterthanthis​ @softie-socks​ @warriorqueen1991​ @xoxabs88xox​ @zpandaqueen​ 

Tagging a few queens who might like this (huge apologies if not): @imanuglywombat​ @threeminutesoflife​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @the-iceni-bitch​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @caffiend-queen​

[harrytpotter]

What’s Happening To Me? — OneShot

Plot: James Potter was starting to feel more and more overprotective towards his friend Y/N and considerably annoyed at the blatant flirting she and one of his best friends were displaying publicly and at the thought she might be falling for Sirius. What was happening to him?

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader.

Word Count: 5,9K.

A/N: I just had revised this long-ass story entirely and was pretty proud at the summary i came up with just for Tumblr to mess up with my post and erase its entire content, only leaving the title behind. Now i can’t remember the previous summary i wrote and am pissed about it. Anyways, I love writing for James and it shows. I won’t revise this again because i really am annoyed at tumblr so apologies in advance for any mistakes! :)

James tried to concentrate on Slughorn’s voice as the professor went on and on about whatever potion they were going to start working on during next week. He was really doing his best to absorb his words, but an extremely flirty pair beside him was making this task nearly impossible. He knew this was just for show since Sirius wanted to make Marlene jealous and Y/N kindly agreed to help him out, but all of this was still bothering him for some reason. Maybe it was because he knew Sirius way too well to know for sure he was enjoying this situation a little too much. Maybe it was because he cared about Y/N enough to bother if Sirius was going to end up hurting her somehow. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Merlin, would you two stop? It’s getting annoying,” he hissed at Y/N and Sirius, whom had been all giggly and touchy for the entire class.

“Does it bother you to see a happy couple in love, Prongs?” Sirius teased, barely suppressing a laugh.

“I’m just trying to pay attention to class,” he mumbled annoyed, his fists clenching slightly.

“Don’t be mean to him, Sirius!” Y/N bumped her fist on his arm. “He’s bitter because Lily is still turning him down despite his best efforts,” Y/N looked at James sympathetically as if saying she was sorry for him.

James sighed heavily at the mention of Lily’s name. Sure, it did annoy him that she was still rejecting his attempts of woo her, but, if he was being quite frank, it didn’t bother or frustrate him like it used to. If anything, it just... he didn’t even know anymore. Why he was still chasing her. Why he was still trying to get her to go out with him. It was seeming more and more pointless lately. He wasn’t sure if he was still pinning after her for a purpose or solely for the challenge.

“Earth to James!” Y/N waved her hand in front of James’ eyes. “You there?”

James tilted his head a little so his best friend’s face could enter his visual field. Her y/h/c hair was loose in a messy way that suited her perfectly, matching harmonically her hypnotic y/e/c eyes. She had a natural confidence that seemed to radiate from her body and wrap every single soul in the room. She was truly effortlessly magnetic. James started feeling flustered suddenly, unbeknownst to why.

“You alright there, mate?” Sirius asked with a brow lifted, staring at him.

“Never better, Pads!” James shot a cocky grin his way, brushing off the unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach.

James fell unusually quiet for the short rest of the class, his mind flickering between Y/N and Sirius and Lily. Everything just seemed so... out of place right now. He didn’t even notice Slughorn dismissing the class until Y/N tapped gently on his shoulder.

“Are you coming, Jamesy?” She asked, Sirius wrapping her against his chest. “Everyone else is already gone.”

“Sure...” James mumbled, still a little airy. His eyes wandered from Sirius’ tight grip around Y/N to her hand gently holding his wrist as her thumb caressed his skin lightly.

“Hurry up, Prongs! We can’t be late for lunch, I have a special surprise for my love here,” Sirius lifted Y/N’s chin gently whilst staring devilishly into her eyes.

James once again felt the same unsettling feeling he did before in the pit of his stomach when he noticed a subtle pink tone brushing through Y/N’s cheeks for a split second as she stared dumbfounded at Sirius.

“You two realize Marlene isn’t even here anymore to witness your annoying flirt, don’t you?” James asked his friends grumpily.

“Would you lighten up for Merlin’s sake, Prongs? Love is never annoying!” Sirius winked at him.

“Love might not be but you certainly are, darling,” Y/N retorted teasingly at Sirius, who took his free hand to his chest in mock offense.

“I usually grow on people, do you know that? Don’t you be so quick on biting the hand that feeds you,” he winged his brows at their amused female friend.

“You really are a complete prat, Sirius Black!” Y/N rolled her eyes with a large grin.

They were so invested on teasing each other that they had seemingly forget about James’ presence. The Gryffindor Quidditch captain spat an annoyed goodbye at his friends before storming off the classroom.

Y/N frowned and mentioned to follow James, but Sirius quickly grabbed her gently by the arm, stopping her from doing so.

“What are you doing? We have to go check on him! Haven’t you noticed how annoyed he left?” She lifted a brow at the grey-eyed boy.

“I did, indeed. But I also have noticed that he seems a little too annoyed at us lately, specially at me,” he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

“Your point? He’s probably still frustrated at his last unsuccessful attempt of wooing Lily,” Y/N sighed.

“Oh, love, believe me, this has nothing to do with Lily. I know Prongs way too well, better than he knows himself, if I may add.”

“Are you implying he’s in love with you?” Y/N exploded in a loud laugh. “Of course it has to do with Lily. It always has something to do with Lily.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes whilst a mischievous grin took over his face. Y/N did a pretty good job in hiding her annoyance when she mentioned Lily’s name, but Sirius could read his y/h/c friend like an open book. He noticed it.

“What now?” She frowned at him.

“Nothing, love. Nothing at all. Come, let’s sit by the Black Lake, shall we? It’s too much of a beautiful day to spend it locked indoors,” he winked knowingly at his friend whilst taking her by the hand, another plan taking form inside his mind.

——————————————————————

“Where are Padfoot and Y/N?” Remus asked no one in particular as he glanced around the Gryffindor table at lunch time.

“Haven’t seen them since Potions this morning,” Peter shrugged uninterested.

“They’re probably snogging somewhere,” James said bitterly, his eyes glued on his food.

Remus lifted a brow at James whilst Peter blinked his eyes in confusion.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Remus asked him with a furrowed expression.

“There’s nothing to read into it. I just meant what I said,” James shrugged, a grimace on his features as he looked at Remus and Peter.

“But Prongs...” Peter whispered as quietly as he could without being incomprehensible. “We know this between them is just for show.”

“Do we? Please, Wormy. You know Padfoot. We all do,” James said calmly. “It’s just a matter of time until they cross the line, assuming they haven’t already.”

“What if they have? It’s not like it’s any of our business,” Remus narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at the messy-haired boy.

“But it is!” James exclaimed exasperatedly. “Y/N is also our friend, why do I seem like I’m the only one who cares about her wellbeing?! Padfoot is smitten with Marlene, you know that Moony. Y/N is the one who’ll end up getting hurt amidst this craziness.”

“Y/N is a smart girl, Prongs. She’s not naive. I highly doubt she or Padfoot himself will do something as stupid as that,” Remus shrugged before taking a piece of turkey to his mouth.

James bit his tongue and returned his gaze to his nearly untouched plate. He really hoped both Y/N and Sirius were smart enough to prevent what could only be described as a catastrophe, at least in his eyes. Just the thought of his best female friend being hurt by Sirius’ reckless actions made him feel like punching something. Or, more accurately, someone.

A loud sound of giggles snapped James out of his thoughts and drove him to wander his eyes to the big doors that separated the Great from the Entrance Hall. Holding hands, Y/N and Sirius were all smiles as they entered the room and approached their table.

“You almost missed the meal,” Peter scolded them with a motherly tone.

“Worry not, my dear Wormtail! We already ate,” Sirius winked at him.

“How’s that possible? You’ve just arrived,” Remus lifted a brow at Sirius.

“We raided the kitchen,” Y/N shrugged as she took a seat next to Remus.

Sirius plunk down by Y/N’s side and wrapped her in his arms guilelessly, playing with a lock of her hair. Nothing different than his usual behavior — since he and Y/N were pretty close friends themselves — but enough to drive James off the edge.

“You alright there, mate?” Sirius asked him for the second time that day, looking even more amused then he did firstly.

James blinked at the sudden attention as his other three best friends stared at him inquisitively. He only then realized how tense his body was and the tight grip he had around his fork. His knuckles were white due to how much pressure he was putting into it. The Gryffindor boy relaxed with a couple of deep breaths before letting his fork rest by the side of his plate.

“Hey, Prongs!” Peter whispered excitedly, breaking the awkward silence that fell upon the usually-very-talkative Marauders. “Fourth person on your left... look who’s staring at you!”

James gladly allowed his focus to shift from Y/N and Sirius as he looked to where Peter had told him. He lifted his brows in surprise as he’s met by Lily’s eyes, a small and shy smile forming on her face as their eyes locked. James returned her smile, waiting for the butterflies to flutter his stomach as they always did whenever he used to have some kind of interaction with the redhead. But they didn’t come at all. Not this time.

“What the bloody hell is happening to me?” He thought to himself as he forced himself to hold Lily’s stare for what seemed like forever.

“Looks like someone is finally wooing the girl of their dreams,” Remus teased after James broke off the eye contact.

“It was about time! I don’t think I could stand another year of this pitiful chase, it was getting quite embarrassing mate,” Sirius joked, earning amused laughs from both Peter and Remus.

“Would you three stop already?” Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’m happy for you, Jamesy. Don’t mind them,” she reached for his hand across the table and gave it a light squeeze. A sweet smile on her lips.

James felt his stomach leaping like crazy inside of him at her touch. He furrowed his brows at the unknown feeling, his hand lingering on hers a while too longer.

——————————————————————

“You’re staring,” Remus pointed out without taking his eyes off his book.

“I’m not!” James denied quickly. “I’m just thinking about what to write on my essay.”

“Is your essay stamped on Y/N’s and Sirius’ faces?” The boy with chocolate eyes teased.

“Don’t you think they’re spending way too much time together?” James asked as he stared at Y/N and Sirius laughing together in a distant corner inside the Common Room. Y/N’s cheeks were flustered due to how hard Sirius was making her laugh.

“Meaning?” Remus’ attention was now solely on James as he studied his friend with a quirked eyebrow.

“Meaning they’ve got other friends outside each other, you know?!” James sounded a lot more harsh than he ever planned to.

The sound of Y/N’s laugh echoed in the room once more. She sounded like a 4-year-old laughing, it was absolutely adorable and completely contagious. James couldn’t help a small smile to spread across his face. He then caught himself wishing he could make her laugh like that. His face fell suddenly as he wondered why this thought would ever cross his mind.

“If it bothers you so much why don’t you just talk to her about it?” Remus shrugged, his focus back on his book.

James reflected on his friend’s advise for a short while until his vision got red again as Sirius trailed his fingers across Y/N’s back whilst whispering something into her ear. James closed his book with a loud bang, startling Remus and other few students who sat close to them.

“Where the bloody are you going?” Remus asked as his friend got on his feet and started gathering his things.

“Somewhere I can actually study,” James mumbled before moving in the direction of the portrait hole.

James wandered aimlessly through the castle, both his mind and heart racing and pounding with questions and emotions. Was he losing his mind? He didn’t know what was happening to him, why or how it started and neither how to make it stop. Y/N didn’t seem nearly as bothered at Sirius’ blatant advances, so he shouldn’t be either, right?!

As James’ feet stopped suddenly on their own, his surroundings came into focus once again and he caught himself staring back at him in a bathroom mirror. He rested his books on top of the nearest sink and took his glasses off, throwing a quick splash of water in his face and leaning over so he could rest his hands on the basin marble.

“What’s happening to me?” He mumbled to his own reflexion.

——————————————————————

“Gather around, kids!” Slughorn said proudly in front of a cauldron as the students started arriving for the Potions class.

Y/N, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter approached the Professor and peeked curiously into the cauldron content. A mother-of-pearl sheen liquid with a spiraling steam lied inside of it. Y/N shifted uncomfortably on her feet as she instantly recognized what the potion with such an unusual shine was.

“Oh...” Sirius whispered not so quietly into her ear with an annoying teasing tone, wrapping his arm on her shoulders.

“Oh Indeed, Mr. Black,” Slughorn grinned amusedly at the raven-haired boy. “Perhaps Miss Y/L/N could tell us what this potion is?”

“Amortentia, Sir. The most powerful love potion in the world. It causes a powerful infatuation or obsession from the drinker. It is distinctive for its mother-of-pearl sheen, and steam rises from the potion in spirals. It’s also known by its smelling properties. Amortentia smells different to each person, according to what — or should I say who — attracts them,” Y/N promptly answered the Professor’s question.

The room was dead silent as everyone stared at the cauldron with great interest after Y/N’s words. Especially the girls, whom all eyed the liquid furtively.

“Very good, Miss L/N! Ten points to Gryffindor!” Slughorn rumbled satisfied.

“That was hot,” Sirius joked, winking at Y/N.

James clenched his teeth as he stared at Sirius, feeling increasingly annoyed at the ever so blatant flirt and not hearing Slughorn asking for a volunteer to smell the potion in front of the entire class.

“Oh, Mr. Potter!” Slughorn exclaimed, dragging his attention back to the class. “Come here now, don’t be shy,” the teacher motioned for him to approach the cauldron.

Looking around, James realized the entire class stepped back and he was standing considerably afar from them. Gulping, the always-so-brave-and-carefree Gryffindor boy slowly started to walk to the cauldron, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Just go already, mate! We all know you’re gonna smell something Lily-related anyway!” Sirius shouted from behind him, earning laughs from almost the entire student body present at the class.

“I highly doubt he will,” Lily said out of the blue, making James stop suddenly on his feet and turn around to face her.

“What was that, love?” He quirked an eyebrow at her with a devilish smile. There was nothing that turned him on more than a challenge.

“I said you wouldn’t smell me. My bet is on something Quidditch-related. But I’ll tell you what, if you do smell anything that actually has something to do with me, I’ll let you take me out on a date,” Lily crossed her arms against her chest defiantly.

That was it, the moment James had been waiting for ever since he first laid his eyes on Lily. The moment he thought would be the happiest of his life. The moment that would leave him feeling over the moon of joy. But nothing of this happened. Sure, it felt satisfactory to finally achieve a long-term goal and finally convincing Lily, but that was it. Just it.

“Go on, Potter! We don’t have all day!” Someone among the Slytherin students shouted, clearly excited to see the outcome of the proposal.

James then walked to Slughorn and stood in front of the cauldron, facing his fellow Gryffindors and the Slytherin crowd.

“Now, Mr. Potter, close your eyes and take a deep breath,” Slughorn instructed as he stepped aside and left James and the cauldron all alone in the spotlight. “And then let us know what you smelled!”

James did exactly as Professor Slughorn had told him to. At first, nothing happened, and then, suddenly, a powerful wave of the most endearing and hypnotic smell enveloped him and raided all of his senses. The smell was an intoxicating mixture of patchouli, sandalwood and cranberry. His eyes widened open as he instantly recognized where he had already smelled this. It was her smell. Y/N’s signature smell.

James’ eyes searched the little crowd furiously until they landed on Y/N. She was inspecting her nails, weirdly quite interested. He wanted to shout so she could look at him. He wanted to lock eyes with her and tell her what he had just smelled. He wanted to run at her and sweep her off her feet, spin her around and tell her what had been in his heart unbeknownst to him this whole time. He now knew what was happening to him.

“Mr. Potter?” Slughorn’s voice alerted James that he and the entire class were waiting for his answer.

James nodded at the Professor and allowed his eyes to land on Y/N once again before finally answering him. However, what he witnessed made his stomach sink. Y/N was whispering something into Sirius’ ear and his left hand was clutched on her waist.

“So that’s why she wouldn’t look at me,” he thought bitterly at himself.

James’ eyes wandered to Lily, a sudden frustration invading him. The redhead looked at him expectantly, unlike Y/N, who was too immersed on Sirius to notice the longing looks he had been sending her way lately. Sighing, James made a stupid decision in the heat of the moment.

“I smell vanilla and lilies,” he announced to Slughorn, knowing very well Lily smelled like that.

When he turned around to face the class again, Y/N and Sirius were nowhere to be found. Lily on the other hand, was standing right where she was, blinking with a dumbfounded expression.

——————————————————————

“Please, Sirius, don’t make me go in there,” Y/N begged Sirius as they approached the Three Broomsticks. She knew exactly what she was going to witness once they went into the establishment.

“Come on now, Y/N! Marlene is going to be there with Alice, please?” He gave her his best puppy eyes as he implored.

“How long will we have to keep up with this?” She asked, pointing back and forth between the two of them.

“Until she admits she has the hots for me,” he winked at his best friend, who simply rolled her eyes at him.

When they entered the pub, their eyes instantly fell on the table where a certain couple was having their first date. Sirius squeezed Y/N’s hand as he noticed her gaze lingering on James’ back.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” She mumbled, pulling Sirius by the hand to a distant table where Remus, Peter, Alice and Marlene sat chatting happily.

“Finally! Where the two of you were?” Remus exclaimed as Y/N and Sirius approached them.

“We were a little... busy, Moony,” Sirius winked suggestively at his friends. “Seems like I’m simply irresistible to my sunshine here.”

Marlene rolled her eyes at them, clearly beyond annoyed at Y/N’s and Sirius’ presence.

“Y/N, tell me, how can you possibly tolerate him, darling?” Remus teased as he noticed Marlene’s annoyance and Sirius’ proud grin.

“I usually keep my lips on his for as long as I can so he can’t speak. That’s the key,” Y/N shrugged, getting into character.

Remus, Peter, Alice and even Marlene laughed at Sirius’ shocked expression at Y/N’s comeback. She forced herself to laugh as well even though she was feeling everything but joy right now.

Stealing a glance in James’ direction, their eyes locked for a while before he drove his attention back to Lily and Y/N felt the sudden need of fresh air.

“I have to use the loo. Be right back,” Y/N mumbled at her friends whilst getting up.

The chit-chat ceased quickly as three of the Marauders and the two girls observed the y/h/c girl shy away from them.

“So, how’s our plan going, babe?” Marlene asked excitedly to Sirius as soon as they couldn’t see Y/N anymore, linking her arm in his.

Before Sirius could say anything, Remus cut him off asking with a much shocked tone of voice: “What plan are you two talking about? Didn’t Marlene despised you like you told us when you’ve asked Y/N for help to make her jealous? Why is she calling you babe? What is going on here?”

“Hold your wolves, would ya Moony? We’ll explain everything,” Sirius grinned. “I did tell Y/N that but Marlene and I had already been sneaking around unbeknownst to general knowledge.”

“Was that supposed to enlighten me?” Remus quirked a brow at him.

“Let me explain, for Merlin’s sake!” Marlene lifted a hand in front of Sirius as he opened his mouth to start talking. “We were snogging in an empty classroom under James’ invisibility cloak this one time when he and Y/N suddenly sneaked in as they ran away from Filch-“

-

“Oh, Sirius,” Marlene mumbled pleasantly at the raven-haired boy who was brushing his lips against her neck teasingly.

“Do you like that?” He asked softly.

“Ye-Yeah,” she muttered in response amidst a heavy sigh.

The couple was suddenly startled as the classroom door clicked open and was quickly closed again with an explosion of giggles. They quickly parted as they stared confusedly at Y/N and James, whom were out of breath and leant against the dark and old rock-wall, hands clutched together.

“Merlin, did you see Filch’s face?” James asked with a laugh.

“I honestly thought he’d spit fire,” Y/N answered with a snore, her face completely flustered from all the running.

James stared at his friend in a comfort silent for quite some time, as if he was engraving her every feature in his mind. “Godric, you’re beautiful.”

Sirius gasped at his friend’s words. Marlene’s mouth fell open.

It was only when Y/N’s eyes widened that James realized he had said that out loud.

“I-I mean, you’re quite alright for a girl and everything, mate,” he added quickly, making even more of a fool out of himself.

“Yeah... thanks, mate,” Y/N answered with a furrowed expression. She was clearly embarrassed as well. “We should probably get going before Filch comes back. Where did you leave your bloody cloak anyway?”

“I’m not sure, I couldn’t find it anywhere. Sirius must’ve borrowed it,” he shrugged, opening the door and checking the outside surroundings for any sign of Filch. “Let’s go!” He grabbed Y/N by the hand and led her out of the classroom, closing the door behind them.

“Did he just say what I heard?” Sirius checked with Marlene just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating as he tossed the invisibility cloak on the floor.

“He actually did,” she answered, a little shocked herself. “Not that it was surprising in any way, I mean, it‘s quite obvious he has it bad for her, I just didn’t think he’d ever notice, he pinning after Lily and everything,” Marlene shrugged.

“I don’t think he reckoned his feelings just yet, James can be a bit of a thick-head sometimes.”

“A bit? And just sometimes? The lad has been chasing after the same girl - who wants nothing to do with him if I may add - for almost six whole years. He definitely is a big time thick-head,” Marlene quirked a brow at Sirius.

“You’re right...” he mumbled thoughtfully. “We have to do something, they’ve got too much pride to ever admit their feelings for each other.”

Marlene shot him a grin as the perfect idea crossed her mind, “have you told anyone about us?”

“Not yet.”

“Good, here’s what we’re going to do...” Marlene started to explain him how he’d tell everyone she didn’t want anything to do with him and then ask for Y/N’s help to make her jealous in front of all of his friends. She made sure to let him know he was supposed to flirt hard with Y/N when James was around.

-

“Did you really have to make the beginning so... graphic?” Alice asked with a grimace once Marlene had told them the entire story.

“Agreed!” Remus quirked his brows at the secret couple. “But I have to say, this idea was quite... clever.”

“It really was,” Peter nodded excitedly. “Padfoot definitely stroke a nerve by flirting with Y/N in front of Prongs.”

“And so did Lily by pretending she was finally interested in him,” Marlene smiled proudly at herself.

“Wait... what?” Sirius looked utterly shocked as he asked her.

“Yeah, sorry about that, but I thought it’d look more... realistic if you didn’t know that. You care about Y/N, you wouldn’t bare seeing her hurt without letting her know the truth,” Marlene shrugged at her boyfriend.

“Woman... you are the love of my life,” Sirius grinned devilishly at her, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles.

-

“That prick...” James mumbled at himself as he clenched his fists at the sight of Sirius flirting and touching Marlene. Didn’t he have no respect for Y/N? He literally just waited until she turned her back to be a complete prat.

“What?” A bored Lily asked.

James realized he had been staring at their friends table basically ever since Y/N and Sirius first showed up, leaving Lily hanging. But, truth be told, the date sucked even before that. He and Lily had zero chemistry, zero common ground, zero... everything. They definitely didn’t belong together.

“Look Evans...” he started after a heavy sigh, looking for the right words.

“This date sucks,” Lily completed as she shrugged in relief. “I know.”

“Well, I’d probably be way more gentle than that, but... that’s what I was trying to say,” he laughed.

“You didn’t smell vanilla and lilies when you inhaled Amortentia, did you?” She quirked a brow at him.

“No...” he furrowed apologetically. “I smelled patchouli, sandalwood and cranberry. As in-“

“Y/N’s artisanal perfume,” she cut him off with a smirk. “Why did you lie you idiot?”

“In my defense, I was gonna tell the truth but then... I saw her and Sirius flirting and, well, you know what I did,” he shrugged.

“Your stupidness never fails to amaze me, Potter,” Lily rolled her eyes at the hazel-eyed boy. “Sirius would never get himself involved with a girl his best mate fancied.”

“Please, he could never know I fancy Y/N,” he furrowed his brows in disbelief. “I’ve only realized it myself a couple days ago.”

“Potter, you oblivious daft, everyone knows you have it bad for her for ages and the other way around,” she rolled her eyes at him once again.

“Are you saying-“

“That the entire school already realized you both long for each other? Yes. Now, let’s go,” Lily stood up and motioned with her head for him to follow her.

“Where are we going?” He asked confused.

“You are going to tell Y/N what Amortentia really smelled like to you and I am going to watch it alongside all of our friends and tease the two of you later,” she said as if it was obvious whilst they crossed the pub.

-

“He admitted his feelings towards Y/N out loud,” Lily announced amused as they approached their friends, taking Y/N’s vacant seat.

“Bloody finally!” Sirius and Remus shouted in unison as they both lifted their glasses in mock celebration.

“I have to say I thought I’d have to kiss her in front of you so your blind self would finally realize your own damn feelings,” Sirius grinned amused at James.

“Please, this is Prongs we’re talking about! He’d probably punch you in the face and still not have a clue as to why he was so angry at the whole situation,” Remus teased with a smirk.

“Sod off, would you?” James flashed his middle finger at them, his eyes scanning the entire place. “Where’s Y/N?”

“She said she was going to use the loo, let me go look for her,” Alice answered James with an excited smile.

James stood there full of hope whilst Alice went looking for Y/N, his heart pounding against his chest and his hands sweating as he thought about finally telling her how he felt.

Alice reappeared again a few minutes later, but there was no sign of Y/N as she walked back to their table.

“She wasn’t there,” she told James, a furrowed expression on her face.

“Where the bloody hell can she possibly be?” Sirius asked with a confused look.

“The castle...” James mumbled at himself before taking off hurriedly.

Marlene stood up as quickly as she could and mentioned to run after James.

“What are you doing?” Sirius asked with a scrunched face.

“Well, I’m definitely not gonna miss the pathetic scene of him finally confessing his feelings to our Y/N, will you?” She quirked an eyebrow.

The little crowd exchanged looks among them before getting up recklessly and take off on James’ trail.

——————————————————————

“How do I do that? How do I tell her I have feelings for her after saying in front of the entire class I smelled lilies as I inhaled Amortentia?” James asked breathlessly as he stopped suddenly in front of the Fat Lady portrait, turning on his heels so he could face his friends.

“Preferable with your mouth, although I suppose you could use your hands as well, you know, to make it more... intimate,” Sirius suggested with a devilishly grin, winging his eyebrows.

“Merlin. I don’t even know what to say about... that,” Lily looked disgusted at Sirius, turning to James afterwards. “Just... do something meaningful for the both of you. Use something that the two of you have in common to make it special. I’m sure it’ll earn you extra points.”

“I’m with Evans on this one,” Remus shrugged. “Sorry, Padfoot.”

They kept throwing suggestions at him, but James wasn’t paying attention anymore. Lily’s words were hammering inside his head as he was thinking about what to do. And then, suddenly, as if it was magic, a brilliant idea popped inside his mind.

“Fat Lady, has Y/N came in already?” James asked the portrait that guarded the entrance to the Gryffindor tower.

“Yes, Potter, she came in a while ago in fact. She didn’t have the best of looks on her face if I may add, I’m assuming she went straight upstairs to her dormitory,” the portrait answered promptly, gladly giving away the juicy details in hopes to gossip a little bit.

“Perfect!” James grinned at the painting. “Thanks, love!” He shouted before running through the hallway.

“Should we follow him?” Peter asked Remus and Sirius.

“What if he comes back?” Sirius shrugged.

“I don’t think he will,” Lily smiled, realizing what he was about to do.

“Mind sharing the why?” Marlene quirked a brow at her.

“Think about it. What’s the one thing they both equally love fiercely?” Lily asked the little crowd with a grin. “Despite each other, of course.”

“Quidditch...” Remus answered slowly, realizing James’ intentions as well.

Before anyone could say anything, James came back and flew by them on his broom, a large grin on his face, “well? Are you lot coming or what?”

Taking off as fast as he could and with his friends on his trail, James flew around the hallways of the castle in the direction of the sloping lawns in the school grounds.

As James proceeded on his flying, he started to draw more and more curious students returning from the Hogsmeade trip, that way, by the time he had approached the exterior walls of the Gryffindor Tower, he had quite a crowd standing underneath him.

Touching the ground slightly, James gathered a few little pieces of rocks and hopped on his broom again, flying up until he reached the same level of the girls dorm’s window.

Before James could execute his plan, a loud shout from Minerva McGonagall startled him.

“James Potter, get off this broom immediately!”

Before James could answer and beg for her to let him do what he had come here to in the first place, the window cracked open. As his eyes shot in the direction of the sound, James spotted an utterly confused Y/N staring at him.

“James what the bloody hell are you doing?” She asked with a frown.

“Well, I was planning on throwing these rocks softly at your window until you opened them up, but I guess there’s no point in doing so now,” he shrugged, showing her the rocks he had clutched into his palm.

“And why would you do that?” She giggled at him, causing butterflies to flutter inside James’ stomach.

“Because I have something rather important to discuss with you, love,” he grinned.

“Why didn’t you just shout my name from the Common Room then, you mental?” She quirked her eyebrows.

“‘m afraid that wouldn’t be as nearly as romantic.”

“Romantic? What are you talking about?” She asked, a disrupted look on her face. “James, what’s going on here?”

“POTTER!” McGonagall shouted once again.

“Could you give a smitten boy a second to confess his feelings for Merlin’s sake, Minnie?” He shouted with a wink at the Professor.

“Well... I suppose I can,” she shrugged with a discreet side smirk. “And Potter?”

“Yes, Minnie?”

“Glad to see you finally build up the courage,” she smiled at the dumbfounded look the boy gave her.

Y/N was still staring at James in shock as he drove his attention back to her.

“So...” she said.

“I lied at the Potions class last week,” he said out of the blue, gliding trough the air.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I didn’t smell lilies or vanilla when I inhaled Amortentia.”

“And what did you smell?” Y/N asked and James could notice she was holding her breath back.

“Home,” the messy-haired boy answered with a gentle smile, his hazel eyes lingering on Y/N’s. “And it smelled like patchouli, sandalwood and cranberries.”

Slowly realizing he was describing her scents, Y/N’s cheeks heated up furiously as she stared at the boy she has been fancying for so long, her eyes widened in shock.

“James is this one of your jokes? If it is, I swear to Godric-“

“No, love. I’d never joke about something like that. I’d never do something like that to you,” he smiled gently. “I’m in love with you, madly in love with you. I have been for years. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that.”

“In that case, would you get off this broom already so I can kiss you?” Y/N said with a lovingly frown.

“Gladly!” James’ face lit up as he hurriedly closed the space between his broom and the window, hopping inside the girl’s dorm.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” Y/N shook her head with a smile.

“About you? Definitely!” James grabbed Y/N by her waist and crashed his lips into her, finally tasting what true happiness was like.

[simmerandwrite]

strangers - steve rogers x reader

Warnings: mentions of sexual harassment and non-consensual touching, swearing.

Word count: 4870

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: When your subway ride home takes a turn for the worst, you hope a stranger in a coffee shop will help you out.

Notes: If you saw a snippet of this the other day, here’s the full thing! I wanted to tackle some ‘in need of saving’ tropes and this just sort of happened. I’ve never posted straight up on Tumblr before but I’m a bit lacking in my experience with reader fics, so I figured this was a good place to share it. no beta, any mistakes are my own! If you like it, let me know - thanks for reading!

—

Steve Rogers liked his days off. Not that he had a set schedule week to week anyway but when things aligned correctly, he could do whatever he wanted. No world saving, no training, no report writing, no meetings.

He had scoped out a small little coffee shop in Brooklyn where he liked to spend these quiet afternoons. Usually with a book in hand (he had so many books to catch up on) or some music loaded to his phone (Nat was currently educating him on 90s punk rock) or a notebook and pencil. People watching served as wonderful inspiration to sketch.

He sipped his cappuccino, eyes tipped downward at the book ahead of him on the table. He was interrupted just moments later as someone dropped into the chair across from him.

Now, Steve wasn’t intentionally hiding out at this hole-in-the-wall cafe. But he did put on his laughable disguise still - a beaten up Yankees cap and his prescription-less thick framed glasses. He liked the anonymity. That didn’t always stop people from recognizing him.

As he opened his mouth to question the person who was suddenly joining him for coffee, she slid her phone across the table to him. Her hand shook. His eyebrows flexed into a curious frown as he looked at the screen displaying a plainly typed note:

‘Do you mind if I sit someone is following me home sorry to disturb you’

—

As if your day hadn’t been absolutely terrible enough, you spotted the gremlin of a man on the subway watching you again. You knew he worked somewhere in the same office building as you because he always trailed a few paces behind you when pushing through the revolving doors in the lobby. It wasn’t uncommon to see the same people on the same subway line at the same time every day, but this man’s presence had become an unwanted downside.

He was always there. Worse than that, he seemed to be always watching you. Today, it was even more obvious that he was following you.

When that thought first occurred to you, it had been really easy to shrug off. He was just a guy taking the subway. But when he happened to be on the later train with you one day, an uncomfortable feeling settled in your stomach.

And now, as the car was filling up even more after the second stop in DUMBO, he had moved to stand and put himself even closer to you.

You had been going through so many Next Steps. God, that phrase was the bane of your existence. Next steps, next steps..

Maybe you could tell him to fuck off. You could make an appointment with Leanna in HR and see if there is a way to figure out the name of this guy - though he didn’t work for your company so that was likely going to be a dead end. You could start taking the bus to the village before grabbing the train. Maybe you could Uber home some days instead of taking the subway. Not that you could afford that but this guy was..

You stiffened immediately.

This guy was touching you. In the midst of the crowded subway car, he was pressed against you entirely. And was he.. His hips were moving against your leg and.. Wait, that was two hands on your hips now.. Hot breath whispered against your neck and -

Fuck.

You threw yourself through the mob as the train came to a stop. With hurried feet you ran onto the platform and up the stairs, doing your best to weave through the flow of people, like a fish trying to make it upstream. You tried not to be obvious but as you snapped your head over your shoulders to look back, you saw him there again.

He was smirking. No, snarling.

Next steps, next steps.

You joined a sea of people crossing the street, taking your first left to try and steer yourself into a particular direction. You were still a far walk from your apartment but with this man on your heels, you didn’t want to lead him anywhere near there.

You grabbed your phone from your jacket pocket, unlocking it quickly and scrolling through the contacts. Surely there had to be someone you could call but even then, what could they do? Offer advice?

It didn’t occur to you until then but would it be valuable to call the cops?

Despite the late day sunlight, you suddenly felt very aware of the emptiness of the sidewalk on that side street. You needed to be around people. It definitely wasn’t logical to be anywhere near alone with this guy and -

It sounded like his footsteps were getting closer. With a panicked gulp, you yanked on the door of a little hole-in-the-wall cafe. Your eyes scanned the space quickly once you were inside. You probably shouldn’t sit alone, you couldn’t run to the bathroom if you aren’t sure where it is or if you needed a key. There were too many variables.

You needed something. Next steps..

You spotted someone sitting at a small table near the window and without thinking, you sent out a silent prayer to whoever might be listening and you rushed over. The man was clearly alone, a half consumed ceramic mug of coffee sitting to the right of his book.

Swallowing hard, you quickly typed on your phone and slid it across the table to him after you sat. You tried your best to stay very calm and hoped that he would play along. God, what if he didn’t play along and -

Behind you, the door chimed once more and you desperately wanted to see if it was that man - if the gremlin had followed you inside. You clasped your hands together in your lap and forced a smile on as you looked at the stranger sitting across from you.

Despite not knowing him, there was a familiarity about his appearance. Behind his thick glasses, soft blue eyes searched you carefully. His eyes flicked to the screen once more, stiffening in his chair as he looked past you towards the rest of the cafe.

With his right hand, he reached into the inside pocket of his coat and took out a small notebook and a pen. He scribbled something quickly and turned the page towards you.

Are you hurt?

You shook your head quickly. He offered you a tight smile and wrote once more.

Buzzcut, grey jacket?

Your eyes blew open wide and you tilted your head into a nod.

I’m Steve

He flipped the notebook closed and extended his hand across the table, palm facing up. He leaned forward just slightly, meeting your eyes with a reassuring smile. “Play along.”

Your eyes flicked to his hand and you slowly unclamped your own, grabbing his on the table instead. He was doing an impressive job splitting his attention between you and his surroundings, eyes scanning the room. He squeezed your hand very gently, brushing his thumb against your knuckles.

“Tell me about your day.”

You sucked in a hard breath. You weren’t entirely sure what his strategy was but something told you this guy was in your corner. Though despite that, you could feel another set of eyes on you.

“Uh,” you started quietly, letting the air escape your lungs. “Surprisingly, I didn’t think it could get worse before I got on the subway after work. I had a review meeting that was not great and we had a free catered lunch that was not vegetarian friendly. Missed an important email and deadline and… well, here I am whining about it and interrupting your day. Listen, I’m going to-

You moved to stand up but Steve shook his head, grasping your hand. “Give it a few more minutes, I think he’ll give up and leave.”

His words were casual but had an authoritative tone. Once more his eyes left you, looking towards the front of the cafe. He raised his free hand and motioned to one of the baristas. You weren’t certain if this was the type of place who served people at their seats but clearly he had a comfortable rapport as the young girl approached with a warm smile on her face.

“Hey Tia, could I get another?”

“Anything for you?” The barista turned her head as she asked, pony tail moving from side to side.

“Uhm.” You paused and thought. You certainly had no desire to even consider a coffee order when you felt someone’s linger gaze boring into you. “A decaf con panna, if that’s possible.” The girl confirmed it was with a nod then left the table side.

“Con panna?” Steve’s lips pulled into a curious smirk. Something about his smile calmed you.

“Espresso with whipped cream on top,” you answered. “Short and sweet.”

“I’ll have to try that next time.”

Steve sure had a soothing smile. When his thumb stopped tracing against your palm - when did that even start? - you felt an empty sadness about the loss. Wow, what did that even say about your standards when a stranger was brushing his thumb against your hand that you were so grateful for? Well, it was a thousand times better than someone rubbing his -

You winced at the memory, biting down as you clutched your bottom lip between your teeth. Though that shameful feeling hadn’t disappeared, you managed to keep it at bay. But now, it seemed to have left an image you were unable to blink away.

The sweet smell of whipped cream and the shuffling of paper cups broke you from your trance. You reached for your bag to fish out a few dollars but when you looked up, Steve was waving a hand to stop you.

It’s not that you didn’t appreciate his kindness. You did. You really, really did. But given the last half hour, you still had a hard time settling your nervous mind.

“Thanks, Tia.” Steve’s eyes were jumping around the place as the barista grabbed the cash he offered. A loud stomp of footsteps drew their attention as the Subway Gremlin saddled up beside the table.

“Sorry to be a bother, darlin’ - any chance I can borrow your phone?”

You couldn’t help but look at him. Though his words were directed at the barista, he made a point to glance over at you.

You felt Steve’s hands grip yours. When you looked towards him, his eyes were very carefully watching the man. How did he manage to -

“Sorry, we don’t have a dedicated line available to customers.” Tia politely shook her head, pointing towards the door. “There’s a CityBank up the street that can help you, I’m sure.” She shrugged and headed back to the coffee counter.

The man stood still, opening his mouth to argue.

Steve sat back, shoulders broad and steady. “Did you need directions there? I think it’s just two blocks. Maybe 500 paces.” His tone was flat. “Just out the door and you’ll be on your way.”

You kept your eyes on Steve. He kept his stare directed at the man. Finally, after what felt like hours of waiting, the man moved his feet. He turned on his heel, though not before stopping to look at you again.

“I will see you tomorrow, dar-

Steve released your hand and pushed his chair back, standing quickly and grasping the man’s shoulder.

Steve towered over him. “You have five seconds.” The man pulled away from Steve’s grip then finally stomped away. You kept your eyes tightly shut until you heard the chime of the bell indicating the movement of the door. Then, you collapsed onto your arms on the edge of the table.

Steve, meanwhile, headed to the door and kept watch for a few more moments to ensure the man actually departed from the area. Then, he stopped at the counter and exchanged a few words with Tia before returning you.

You were still doing your best to encourage the floor to open up and swallow you whole. How had this even escalated? The worst part was your mind seemed clouded with doubt. This man, you hadn’t even interacted with him before. Why was he suddenly so invested in you? To a point where he might follow you home? Were you just another target or had this been intentional?

You considered yourself a fairly observant person and yet..

You twisted your hands together in your lap and tried to consider what was going to happen now. Next steps, next steps..

“Hey.” Steve returned to his chair. Your eyes flicked up towards him, noticing he was sliding a bottle of water towards you. Your sad little espresso and whipped cream treat was deflated next to it. “Are you okay?”

You reached for the water bottle, twisting the cap open and taking a long drink. “I don’t know.” Chewing on your bottom lip, you shook your head. “No, actually. I’m not. It somehow feels like my skin is on fire and my lungs are failing me and I’m sweaty but I’m not and - and -

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” Steve spoke so calmly and evenly. “Just take a slow breath with me, okay?” You closed your eyes once more and followed his instructions as he walked you through a few breathing exercises. “That’s great, you’re doing great-

When he stopped speaking so quickly, you opened one eye to look over at him. His cheeks were a warm shade of pink and his mouth was twisted into a frown. “What?”

“It just occurred to me I didn’t get your name.” He paused, as if to consider his next thought. “Although, given what just happened with that man, you are under no obligation to tell me anything about yourself. I just.. I’d like to help.”

His genuine concern for you was surprising. You allowed a small smile to stretch across your face. “You’re very nice, Steve.”

You gave him your name and he smiled back, repeating it to himself. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Your smile turned downwards when you looked towards your phone. “I should probably get going. Again, I’m really sorry for dragging you into this mess but I appreciate the… solace.” You took a deep breath and pushed your chair back, pausing to tip the lukewarm espresso into your mouth. “I owe you one.”

You winced when you heard yourself and sighed. Why did you say that? This stranger, this friendly, broad shouldered, tall, handsome stranger who’s day you interrupted, did not need your weird backhanded flirting. In fact, even though every signal in your brain seemed on edge after, well, everything, the only thing that seemed to ground you now was the kindness of Steve. So you tried to will yourself not to ruin it with any additional commentary.

You weren’t entirely sure what had driven you down this particular street into this particular cafe and towards this particular man. But, you were certainly grateful. “Actually, do they have gift cards here? I’d love to buy you one to say thank you and -

“Are you going to walk? Wherever you’re going right now?” When you looked over, you saw that Steve had stood, too. You saw his eyes move towards the door and the far windows up the street where the man from the subway had gone. “I don’t want to overstep but I hope you’ll let me walk you home. Or far enough away to have cleared his radar.”

“I feel like I’ve already wasted enough of your time, Steve.” You truly felt worse and worse for interrupting his afternoon.

“Please, I insist.” Steve tilted his head, half a smirk on his lips. “You just said you owe me one, so. I’m cashing in the favour.”

“The favour repayment you’re cashing in is.. you doing me another favour? Do you know how favours are supposed to work?” Admittedly, you knew you would feel a lot safer having someone walk home with you. And something about Steve made you feel very secure, his presence like a comforting shield.

“C’mon,” Steve replied with a laugh, nudging his head towards the door.

When you stepped onto the sidewalk, you stopped to think. “Let’s go this way.” You turned to the right and Steve followed, staying on your shoulder closest to the street. You walked in a comfortable silence - which made you nervous at first. Then, as your steps fell into a pattern, the quiet soothed you.

You pushed your hands into the pockets of your jacket as you turned down the next block. You looked over at Steve, who turned his head towards you as you shifted. “You didn’t ask anything else about the man.. Who followed me.”

A quiet hum came from Steve. “I didn’t think I should. You seemed shaken up enough.” He shrugged, peering down at you through his glasses. “If you want to talk about it..”

“I work in this big office building in Midtown. The Clifton building?”

Steve motioned his hand diagonally. “Little bagel place downstairs? That’s right down from The Avengers tower, isn’t it?”

You nodded along. Right. Stark Tower was The Avengers Tower, now. It was the most iconic landmark on that block. “Yes. Actually, I work on the 40th floor, which makes for a great angle to see Iron Man coming in.” Your smile was fleeting when you continued on. “It’s a huge building. I work in human resources for this pharmaceutical company.. But there’s a law firm in there, too. Insurance companies, start ups.. Hundreds of people in and out all day long. Yet, that man on the subway has managed to..” You stopped yourself before your chest got too tight. “Let’s just say I’ve seen him around before.”

“Do you know his name?”

“That’s the thing!” You couldn’t help but laugh now, shaking your head in dumbfounded confusion. “No. I have no idea who he is. But he often gets on the same subway line as me, watches me from across the crowd then today..” You stopped and dragged a hand down your face. “It’s a sad truth but I would say most of my friends have been.. Touched inappropriately on the subway before. I guess it’s a weird right of passage or something..”

“Wait - what?” Steve stopped in his tracks and reached his hand out to grab yours. You stopped and looked up at his eyes, somehow both soft and dark with concern. “He touched you? What do you mean?”

You raised an eyebrow, wondering if his ask was authentic. When you saw the disappointment in his face, eyes flooded with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint, you realized his reaction was genuine. You opened your mouth to explain but suddenly it seemed impossible to find the words.

Steve let go of your hand as he absorbed your lack of response and reached for his phone. “You can file a police report, right?”

“No, no.” You stopped him, placing your hand on his as he held his phone. “Trust me, that’s just paperwork that goes nowhere. Without the guy's name, absolutely nothing would come from it anyway.” You shook your head. “It’s fine, really. I might just adjust my work hours and change my route home for a few weeks. Maybe he’ll give up.”

Steve muttered something to himself, shaking his head. His face shifted from concern to something else, like his brain was working on a different trail of thoughts. He spoke your name quietly, drawing your attention to him again. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Steve’s kindness was a strange contrast to the entire experience on the subway. How one man could have such questionable intentions while another apologizes with sincerity for it was nearly jarring. Although, it did suddenly occur to you that Steve was just as much of a stranger.

“The worst part is.. men like that sever any opportunity for trust in other people. Especially blind trust. Like me telling you, a stranger, where I work and walking you to where I live. Funny enough though - every wire in my brain should be telling me not to and how it was a bad idea but.. I guess there is something about you.”

Steve sucked in a breath, eyes wide as he considered his response. “When you walked into the coffee shop, you could have asked the barista for help or tried to hide out in the bathroom. But you sat next to me instead. How come?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. Like I said, there's just something about you, Steve.”

You walked in silence again, feet falling into a pattern once more. The sky was growing darker, the air cooler. After crossing the street again, you looked at him. “How do you feel about Prezio being traded to the Orioles?” You reached out and tipped up the brim of his Yankees hat. “A tragedy, right?”

A quiet laugh escaped him as he tipped his head. “I think it was a huge mistake. Don’t you think we’ve had a hard enough year as it is?” Your silence was filled with baseball talk instead and it seemed to put both of you at ease.

“This is me.” You stopped outside of a short apartment complex, pointing a thumb to the door.

Steve smiled, one hand in the pocket of his jacket as he studied you. Was this it? After the wild rollercoaster of emotions you had spilled onto him in the last hour, parting with nothing else seemed empty. Lacking. He opened his mouth and closed it, once then twice.

Finally, you cut in. “Thanks again, Steve. Really. If you hadn’t played along and scared him away.. well, I’m not sure where I would be right now. It means a lot that you cared enough about a stranger to make sure I was safe.”

Steve sighed out your name. “I’m sorry your barometer for kindness is so low.”

You sighed. “Yeah, me too.” Part of you wanted to do something. Say something else. Linger a tiny bit longer. But your feet shuffled and your hand reached for the door. “Have a good night, Steve.”

—

“I need a favour.”

“Well, good morning to you, sunshine. Did you lock yourself out of your computer again? FRIDAY can help with that.”

“Tony, this is serious.”

“Okay, okay. I recognize that scowl. How can I help you?”

“If I provided you some video footage from a security camera, can we track someone down? Figure out who they are? For full transparency, it’s just a civilian.”

“Sounds like we’re operating outside of the law, Rogers. Can you provide me with more context? I don’t mind the grey area - I just like the drama, too.”

Steve sighed, then reluctantly explained himself. The cafe. Your panicked message. The stalker of a man. The way you dismissed it all as a normal, unfortunate side effect of existing as a woman. His barista friend provided him with camera footage but he wasn’t sure it was enough.

Tony pinched between his eyes. “Men are scum. And I say that as someone in the practice of trying to be better. Recovering scum, if you will. I’ll see what I can do. FRIDAY, how quietly can we get into the security database at the Clifton building?”

—

Although you hadn’t lied to Steve, it occurred to you on your journey home that your guard should remain up. Which is why you had actually allowed him to walk you to your aunt’s apartment, instead of your own. She was happy to see you burst through the door and insisted you stay for dinner. That was a tiny silver lining to the whole mess.

The next day though, the thought of going into work was suffocating. So you opted to spend the day working from home instead, which your boss had been agreeable to, at least. One day rolled into two and you successfully avoided the office building until the following Monday. But then, you needed a plan. Next steps, next steps.

You took an Uber to the office early and left late at the end of the day, leaving out the back stairway and crossing a few blocks to take a different subway line home. It was unfortunate you had to cater your life to the chance you would run into this goon again, but your sense of security was slowly returning. That had to count for something.

Things shifted later that week. There was a sudden new policy sent out to all the staff in your office outlining new building ownership and training about sexual harassment policies.

“It’s a long time coming,” you heard someone mutter out in the elevator as you headed down towards the lobby.

“Guess Tony Stark just wants to own the whole block,” their coworker chirped back, pulling to loosen his tie.

There was even more commotion when you exited the elevator and walked towards the large glass doors. A team of NYPD officers were standing outside, shoving someone in the back of their cruiser. Your eyes narrowed. You couldn’t be certain but from that angle, you certainly recognized the bad buzzcut. Your eyes darted around the lobby anxiously and across the room, a small crowd of suits and officers had formed near..

Tony Stark, himself.

Before you could even try to understand what was going on, you heard someone calling your name. You turned your head and saw someone who looked a lot like -

“Steve?” You took a few steps towards him, pausing to glance from him back at Tony Stark and.. “Oh my god. You’re Steve Rogers. Why didn’t you say something?”

Captain America had walked you home. Hidden behind glasses and a hat. And you always considered yourself observant.

Steve just smirked, shrugging a shoulder. “I didn’t think it was important.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Should I be thanking you for all of this chaos?”

Steve furrowed his brow in mock confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, maybe I’m extrapolating here but the same day my subway stalker gets taken away in cuffs, Stark Industries buys out this building and mandates a new policy and code of conduct.”

Steve pursed his lips, swallowing back a mischievous smirk. “Here’s the thing. It occurred to me that your best choice of action after that day was changing your entire life to avoid that man. And I couldn’t help but think about how broken that system was.”

You sighed. It had occurred to you, too. While you were relieved to shake the man from your trail, your mind considered he would probably turn his attention to someone else. And that wouldn’t be fair.

“Well, Cap. Job well done. That scum of a man had priors in Jersey, too.” Tony Stark himself had walked to where you and Steve stood. His hand clapped on Steve’s shoulder. “You’re at least going to ask her out, right? I mean, I bought an entire building for you - make a move, pal.”

Steve flushed pink and you couldn’t help but do the same.

“I’m getting a bagel. You want a bagel?” Tony raised an eyebrow from you to Steve again, smiling proudly.

“I’m good. I recommend the poppy seed though!” You called as Tony flitted away, narrowly avoiding a proper looking blonde woman who seemed very tired.

You turned your attention back to Steve. “He seems like a lot.”

“He is.” Steve nodded, motioning his hand. “I know it’s only one thing, maybe a ripple in making a difference but.. I’m hoping one less inappropriate person on the subway can give you peace of mind.”

You smiled again. Though you had seen many appearances by Captain America on the news, seeing the man in person was different. It seemed Steve Rogers walked the walk. After parting ways with him before, though he had crossed your mind, you didn’t anticipate your menial issues leading to this.

“Thanks. Really. Even one person makes a difference.” You reached out and touched his arm. “Thank you, Steve.”

“I’m sorry about Tony, though. His comments about asking you out and.. that certainly wasn’t my goal here.”

“I don’t know. You just did me a huge favour getting rid of that gremlin. I think I owe you.”

Steve caught your cheeky smile and stood up a bit straighter. “Well, in that case, the Yankees are playing the Sox tomorrow night. Tony never uses his tickets and the seats aren’t half bad. What do you say?”

“You’re cashing in this favour to take me on a date? Usually people ask for help moving or a ride to the airport or something.” You let out a dramatic sigh. “Sure. I guess you can take me to the game, Steve. If you ask politely, I’ll probably even hold your hand.”

After work the next day, Steve met you outside and you took the subway together to the stadium. You knew this wasn’t the end of it for you or anyone else worried about their personal boundaries being crossed. But, as you gripped the subway pole and your fingers grazed against Steve’s, you could finally breathe again. For the first time in a while, you weren’t anticipating next steps.

It was just you and the kind stranger from the coffee shop.

[mittensmorgul]

2021 in Mittens Fic

The annual summary of things I’ve written this year! I’m relieved and pleased to say that while I’ve accepted I’ll probably never hit 2015′s record word count again (sigh), at least I improved over last year’s record low. And this doesn’t even count the 54k words in my upcoming pinefest fic, since I only count posted works for this little summary. I finally feel like I’m making writing progress again! Yay!

For reference, past year end summaries can be found here:

2020 | 2019 | 2018 | 2017 | 2016 | the closest thing I have to a 2015 wrap up post is the lil bit of text at the bottom of 2016′s post... even though my two most popular fics were from 2015 lololol

Starting the year off writing a finale fix-it I could live with really helped me get going this year, even if it meant this was the first year I failed to finish a pinefest fic. I did manage to finish the fic I’d started for that (in March 2020 lol) for the dcbb, which was a process that renewed my belief in my own ability to write long fic again.

I did manage to outdo my 2020 total fics posted, with six, and beat my 2020 total wordcount by more than 8k, for a total of 111,806 words! Thrilling!

(tries not to think about 2015′s 250k+ total lolol)

At some point recently, I also crossed the 2 million words total posted on AO3, but about 800k of that is the tumblr tittyban meta dump, and none of that really counts as fic. I’m leaving it all there anyway. It’s still stuff I wrote, and honestly if the meta count counted toward fic writing totals, I’d probably have a million words a year, easy. :’D

And if meta counts for anything, I started the @spngeorg​ podcast this year in an attempt to organize all my thoughts on this show. It’s just me talking through every episode of the series one week at a time, but I’ve kept up with it, which I’m super proud of myself for! Thank you to everyone who’s listened, liked, subscribed, commented, and engaged with me about it this year. Episode 39 of the podcast-- 2.17 Heart-- will drop later tonight, and if you’re interested you can start from the beginning on AnchorFM or wherever you enjoy podcasts! The fact I’ve now spent a decade with my eternal rewatch, seen the entire series at least 30 times all the way through, at least this podcast gives me a weekly reminder that I haven’t just poisoned my entire brain for nothing. :’D 

With all of that out of the way, let’s get to the fic! Presented in the order it was posted:

Revenge of the Text (25427 words, rated T): Begins right after Jack takes off after defeating Chuck in 15.19. This is my best case scenario for how the show should’ve ended, and I needed to write it so I could continue to engage with the series I love. I wrote it as if it COULD have been an episode of the show, hence the rating. Though if it WAS an episode of the show, I would’ve included a lot more of Sam and Eileen’s POV, and in an ideal covid-free world, a lot of other characters in general. This is just the beginning of what I would’ve hoped for an ending, though.

what goes around... (468 words): a “what if” alternate version of a fix it, with Dean waiting in the meadow where Cas had come back from the empty before, only something sinister is waiting there with him.

Just Another Morning (1166 words, rated T): the annual DeanCasVersary fic. Pure Fluff.

You Held It In Your Hands (73239 words, rated M): my dcbb, with amazing art by the wonderful @solstheimart​. It makes my heart so happy! AU medical residents!Dean and Cas, they’re roommates!, and the powers that be at the hospital where they’ve both found themselves seem to be doing everything imaginable to keep them apart. Fluff and feelings-- revealed through notes left for each other, music, and food-- ensue.

For The Best (4912 words, rated T): annual holiday fluff, Dean and Cas end up snowed in together in the bunker. Technically in the same ‘verse as Revenge of the Text, so everyone’s happy and nothing hurts.

Haunted Heart (5594 words, rated T): Despite having written this waaaaayyyyy back in 2019, in collaboration with ArtSynk, for the To Hell And Back Anthology, we’ve finally been cleared to post them to AO3. So just under the deadline for this annual list, I had a happy little bonus story (with gorgeous attendant art!) to add to this year’s totals. I’m so thrilled to have been included in this project, so thrilled by the fandom’s (and the actors!) reception to the book, and thrilled to be able to share even my little contribution to it with everyone else now. <3

And that’s my year in fic. I’m amused I’ve already got nearly half this total wordcount written for 2022 already, and so much more waiting to go. At this point my biggest obstacle to writing is the sheer overwhelming quantity of ideas on my To Be Written list. And yeah, I think it would be hilarious to share the stats on that doc here too. Ahh, to the good old days when this list was ten pages long... Why do we get new ideas faster than we can write the old ones? 

which, at least means I’ll be writing fic for years to come... gotta get through this list, at least! I think I’ll save that for 2022 lol!

Thanks to everyone who’s read, kudos’ed, commented, reblogged, rec’ed, and enjoyed anything I’ve written in the last year. I love you all. <3 See you in 2022!

[1kook]

commercial break ; FOUR

a netflix & chill drabble this takes place anywhere lol

summary; For the last ten minutes or so his mind has been bothered by one thing and one thing only— the hair that hung in his face. warnings; smut (18+), cunnilingus, hair pulling, the usual miscellaneous; 190811 kook... good luck babes word count; 800 words :/

notes; an anon asked for this n i said yeah! wrote it n then forgot about it. but now its here. 3 weeks later. hey have u guys tried the arroz con leche i thought the arroz con leche was lovely 

There’s a lot of things Jungkook could be thinking about, a lot of sensations he should be drowning himself in. There’s you, so soft and pretty before him, but more importantly there’s your wet folds, quivering and pulsing at every swipe of his tongue. He should be thinking about you and your body right now, the little sounds you make when he dips his tongue into your cunt, and the way your heel mindlessly knocks against his shoulder.

But he doesn’t because he can’t. For the last ten minutes or so his mind has been bothered by one thing and one thing only— the hair that hung in his face.

Jungkook was supposed to get a haircut last Tuesday, had even gone out of his way to specifically schedule an appointment with his favorite barber, Hoseok. But one thing led to another and suddenly Tuesday morning was spent in the bathtub, holding your waist as you rocked yourself to completion on top of him. It was spent swallowing those pretty sounds, wet skin on wet skin that made the water in his tub threaten to splash over. You had been so good for him, he remembers, had called his name in that feathery light voice of yours as you came down his cock.

And then suddenly, Tuesday afternoon was spent between his sheets, kissing and squeezing every inch of you he could get. You had the day off midweek, which was odd for you. And maybe Jungkook couldn’t wait until the weekend to hold you, not when you had spent Monday night sending him sultry Snapchat after sultry Snapchat. He needed to be with you, snuggled between your hips until you creamed his cock three times over.

Anyway, he missed his appointment and now he’s paying the harsh consequences for that. He can’t see, and it bothers him because he just knows you’re laid out like a feast before him. There’s a little trickle of sweat that always pools in the valley between your breasts when he treats you like this, a swollen lip caught between your teeth, watery eyes that lock on his. He wants to see so badly and that mass of curls on top of his head is making it damn near impossible.

He flips his head to the side, remembering how this is a move you tend to do when you’re going down on him, throwing all your hair to one side of your neck. But it doesn’t work well with Jungkook’s hair, especially the strands that fall right back in front of his forehead.

So he resigns himself to blindly eating you out. It’s fine, he knows your body like the back of his hand, but it just sucks because he can’t see you.

It sucks for all of twenty seconds, twenty hard seconds that end when two sets of fingers suddenly begin running across his scalp. It sends a shiver down his spine, makes him pull away from your swollen clit with a wet pop. And suddenly, everything is clear again.

You’re looking down at him with that fog in your eyes, the one that tells Jungkook you’re immensely overwhelmed and could use an orgasm now. Your fingers, your godsent fingers, have carded through his hair, pushing it back until it’s in a makeshift ponytail of sorts.

“Wanna see you,” you pant, voice wispy and soft. If he hadn’t just came down your throat five minutes before, he’s certain he would have cum again. Jungkook groans, feels himself unconsciously roll his hips into the mattress anyway.

“Fuck, me too,” he murmurs back, rewarding your adorable attitude with a chaste kiss against your thigh. You whimper, hips jumping at the softest brush of his mouth. “So good for me,” he praises as he returns to his post, suctioned around your clit. Your entire body shakes at his every move, tugging and pulling at his curls.

It’s like you want him to stop, and then you don’t. The slow push and pull makes prickles of pain blossom across his scalp, but it feels so good to be held by your hands. To be the sole receiver of your attention.

So maybe Jungkook gets a little too excited, sucks and kisses a little too hard. It doesn’t matter, because he can see and he can feel how good he makes you feel. “Oh,” you whimper, yanking at the strands of hair on his head. He sighs, the sensation combined with the sweet drip of your pussy on his tongue enough to deliver him straight into heaven. “O-Oh, baby,” you slur, body melting into the sheets.

His tongue chases after you, saccharine moans filling his mind and wrapping around him like silk, until Jungkook is desperate to make you cum. In his mouth, no less. His tongue slips into your hole, dips into that scorching cave that clenches upon entry. His name falls from your lips, his fingers dig into your hips. A strand of hair tickles his brow, but you scoop it back with a trembling hand. “Mmh—mmph!” you moan, back arching against the sheets.

You cum in Jungkook’s mouth, fingers twisted in his curls until you relax, look at him with those fucked out, sleepy eyes and ask him for just one more, kook-ah.

Who is he to deny you. 

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[luxekook]

𝗙𝗢𝗨𝗥 | 𝘬𝘵𝘩

⇥ pairing: quadruplet!taehyung x reader

⇥ genre: crack, smut

⇥ summary: in which the reader lives next door to taehyung… and his three brothers. she doesn’t realize they’re quadruplets until it’s just a little too late.

⇥ word count: 7.5k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing/dirty talk, alcohol, general chaotic energy [as usual], one hard dom!taehyung and three soft dom!taehyungs, sub!reader, pet name: kitten, smut (breast worship, oral [f receiving], bondage, spanking, slight degrading name-calling during sex, mention of daddy kink, ownership kink, four taehyungs lovin’ on the **READER** [***NOT EACH OTHER***])

⇥ beta’d by: the lovely phia (@meowxyoong​) and the cutie ally (@ally-127), and read over by the iconic heath (@shadowsremedy)

The Kim Quadruplets:

Mic Drop!Tae as “V” Boy With Luv!Tae as “Vante” Pied Piper!Tae as “Hansung” ON!Tae as “Taehyung”

Of all the days to forget your umbrella, your brain just had to choose today. You cursed your faulty memory as you shuffled your drenched sneakers across the ‘Welcome’ mat of your apartment building. As someone who prided themselves on being prepared and dependable, you were thoroughly angry at yourself for dropping the ball. Lightning flashed through the windows of the lobby, but you barely flinched - already used to the noise after a lengthy walk home from work.

You worked part-time at a small indie coffee shop called ‘Grind On Me’, which was located halfway across town. The shop was owned by an eccentric middle-aged woman named Reese who still had not gotten over the tragic loss of Vine. The menu was full of references to the fallen application: “Oovoo Java”, “Coulda Dropped My Croissant”, “Avocado Toast, Thanks!”, and “Back At It Again With The Refill”.

The best part of your job was definitely fucking around with your co-workers Jess and Cal. Reese often scheduled the three of you together because your “combined chaotic energy” was “on-brand”. Basically, the three of you would spend your shifts roasting coffee and roasting each other, while Reese looked on like a proud mom. You loved it.

The rest of your time was filled with school. You were up to your neck in your studies; but, with just one semester left until graduation, you were more determined than ever to stick it out. As a literature major, you spent many hours hunched over your trusty MacBook, fingers flying across the keys. Creating new worlds and constructing well-rounded characters was intoxicating. Every new document was a chance to bring ideas to life, an opportunity to make someone laugh or cry, a possibility to both mend and break hearts.

But, your absolute guiltiest pleasure was writing romance - and not the lovey-dovey kind. No, you wrote the racy kind of romance: the heart-pounding smut, the kinky (well-written and well-researched) BDSM, the raunchiest threesomes. You always wondered what your professors would think if you submitted one of your erotic novels to be graded; but, for now, you settled for posting to your loyal audience on Tumblr and for fantasizing about someday fulfilling the filthy scenes you wrote about.

Your most recent fantasy was inspired by the rainfall. Kissing in the midst of a storm like people did in those cliché movies… fucking as the rain poured over you… hands sliding down your slippery skin…

“Woah.” Hands grabbed your hips, halting you from continuing to walk forward absentmindedly. You jumped, your mind jarred from your fantasy and back to reality.

“I am so sorry,” You breathed out, “My mind was somewhere else.”

“I’ll say,” The deepest and most divine voice you had ever heard sounded from the figure in front of you. You looked up, desperate to know the source of such a dulcet tone. You were not disappointed.

The boy was beautiful.

His skin was the color of warm honey, his dark eyes sparkled with bad intentions, his full lips curled into a sly grin. “I would pay good money to know what you were thinking about just now, kitten,” The boy’s grin widened, displaying a cute boxy smile that did nothing to take away from the implications of his words.

“I’m not your kitten,” You glared at the blonde boy in front of you, shoving aside both his hands and the traitorous warmth that bloomed inside you at the pet name. With those words, you sidestepped around him and trudged to go check your mail. Your heart flipped in your chest when you heard the soft pitter-patter of footsteps following close behind you.

“Ever heard of an umbrella, kitten?” You could hear his smile in his infuriating words, and you shot him a glare.

“Yes, actually. Have you ever heard of manners?” You bit out, punching in the key code to your small mailbox.

The boy’s laugh sent a shiver down your spine that you tried to rationalize as a chill. God, he was maddeningly handsome. You grabbed the small bunch of letters shoved in your mailbox and were so ready to hightail it out of there, when he grabbed your wrist.

The sight of his long fingers wrapped around your wrist made your mind flash to scenes of him holding your wrists above your head as he thrusts, hips swiveling and pounding into you… him holding your wrists behind your back as he kneels in front of you, tongue deep in your—

“Kitten.” Your attention snapped back to him, your eyes wide and your cheeks flushed. Fuck, you really needed to shut your inner ho of a writer off sometimes…

He winked, “Next time you’re going to have to share what’s going on in that head of yours. I’ll be seeing you around, neighbor.”

With those parting words, he sauntered out of the mailroom, flipping the hood of his grey sweatshirt up over his wavy blonde strands as he tugged his dark bomber jacket closer around him.

Neighbor?

You were so fucked.

A few days later, you still had not forgotten your blonde self-proclaimed neighbor, no matter how hard you tried. And, god, you had tried. No amount of smutty fan fiction or archaic romance tropes could quell your thirst.

You didn’t even know his name.

Jess and Cal had urged you to just knock on his door and introduce yourself, but you knew it wasn’t that simple. First, you had more than one apartment neighboring yours. You were not about to knock on each and every door in your hallway to find some mystery boy - even if he did call you kitten and smelled like summer nights. Second, you had already written so much filth inspired by your brief encounter that you feared you might not survive being in the same vicinity as him without spontaneously combusting or jumping on him.

And third, you were just so intimidated by him and his dominating presence. Even though you spent just a few minutes with him, you knew that you would have fallen to your knees before him if he’d demanded it… And he really looked like the type to demand.

Now every damn time you entered your apartment building, your eyes sought him out. You jumped out of your skin at every ding of the elevator, half fearing and half hoping he might be getting off. Your heart pounded whenever you walked down your hallway to unlock your door, waiting for him to swing open his own door to greet you with a smirk and some sarcastic words.

But, nothing had happened. And you were beginning to think he might have just been a rain-induced hallucination. Those were a thing, right?

You shook yourself out of your disastrous train of thought. Your shift at ‘Grind On Me’ was approaching, and you really needed to make some money. Rent, unfortunately, just didn’t pay itself. Tugging on your non-slip black sneakers, you made sure to grab your umbrella - just like you had the previous couple days, despite the clear forecast. You would not be caught out - or called out - again.

You push open your apartment door, shoving your umbrella deep into your tote bag and stepping out into the hall. You were entirely unprepared for the sight you were met with.

The boy from earlier that week was fumbling near the door across from you with what looked like an entire art store crammed into half a dozen reusable bags. He was mumbling about some Han character who couldn’t “get off his ass for one second to help him”. And, his hair was a bright shade of blue.

His. Hair. Was. Blue.

You must have made some sort of choking noise because suddenly he whipped around to face you. His wide eyes latched onto yours, and you couldn’t help but think that there was something peculiar about him today - even besides the hair.

A light flush bloomed on the boy’s face that you were sure was mirrored on your own tenfold. Shit, he really could pull off that shade of blue… Your eyes involuntarily slid lower to check out his white slouchy ‘CELINE” t-shirt, his black Adidas sweatpants, his bag hung casually off one muscular shoulder. You swallowed suddenly craving some water.

“Uh, hey, neighbor,” You waved at him idiotically as he continued to just stare. You lowered your hand and fought the urge to smack yourself for your lame actions.

The boy blinked and then smiled that same boxy smile as before, “Hi! I would wave back, but I’m kind of tied down right now.”

You let out a very uncharacteristic giggle, “And I would offer to help you, but I’m already late for work. Don’t worry, I have my umbrella this time.”

Grabbing your umbrella from your bag, you waved it briefly in the air before returning it to its resting place. “Bye!” You called over your shoulder at the bewildered blue-haired boy, “Love the new hair by the way!”

“Uh, thank you?” He called after you. As you stepped into the elevator, you swore you heard him say something about having good weather with no chance of rain, but you were too busy thinking about how nice he was today.

And about how he didn’t call you kitten.

You were so, so fucked.

When you got to work, you were immediately bombarded with questions from Jess and Cal.

Jess: “Wait. His hair is blue now? Does he look like a hot Smurf?”

Cal: “So, no “kitten”? Throws phone. Stomps on skateboard.”

You: “Did you just try to use the ‘So No Head' Vine out loud?”

Reese: "She sure did." *wipes away tear proudly*

They continued to clown on you for another hour while some of your favorite regulars filed in and out, grabbing their late afternoon coffees.

One of your particular favorites was an enigmatic individual named Heath. You, Jess and Cal were about 85% certain that Heath was a sugar daddy based on his regular order (the "Valentino Flat White") and the large amount of tips he always left (at least $20 for each barista on duty).

Another favorite customer of yours was Tay. She tended to skulk in the corner of the cafe, typing away on her phone and occasionally letting out loud bursts of laughter. Once, you had asked what she was writing, but she just looked at you like you had asked for her darkest secret. You figured it was something juicy.

Sighing, you checked the clock on the wall for the umpteenth time that evening - 6:50PM. Two more hours til you could go home, throw on some sweatpants, and drink a glass of cheap wine.

Wiping down the coffee bar, you heard a throat clear behind you. "Be right with you!" You called over your shoulder, placing the wipe in the garbage before turning to take their order.

"Oh," You gasped as you took in the new customer, "Your hair!"

"My hair?" Your neighbor that you had seen just hours before tugged his hands through his now-brown waves, "Is there something wrong with it..." His dark eyes flicked to your name-tag, “(y/n)?”

"N-no," You gulped, wondering what happened to the cute blushing blue-haired boy from earlier. Your neighbor really was giving you whiplash with his different moods. "What can I get for you?"

"Your number." His boxy grin was lethal, his voice was sultry.

You blinked at him. "You could have just knocked on my door later if you needed me."

His eyebrows flew up, "Oh really? I like the sound of that. You'd have to give me your address though, kitten."

"Very funny," You scoffed. Your insides turned to mush over the return of the nickname that you hated to love. "Now, seriously, what can I get for you?"

"Surprise me," He winked, handed you $50 and sauntered to a nearby table.

Gaping, you shook yourself out of your trance and got to work on his 'surprise' - an "I Thought You Were Americano".

"Who is that?" You jumped two feet in the air at Jess' hissed question. She was hovering right behind you as you poured the espresso into his to-go cup.

"My fucking hair chameleon of a neighbor!" You whispered back, conveying your panic, “Deliver this to him, would you?“ You tried in vain to shove the hot Americano into Jess' hands but she dodged your efforts.

"Oh no, bitch,” She laughed, "I am going to watch from afar as this plays out."

"Goddamn you," You shot her your best side-eye and stalked off to deliver the drink to your godforsaken neighbor.

The boy in question flicked his eyes up to look at you as you approached his table. He was wearing a flowy button-down shirt with at least four of the buttons undone, showcasing a tan and very toned chest. His legs were spread wide, encased in tight black slacks that left little to the imagination.

You gulped, trying not to imagine yourself perched on his lap and grinding into his hard––

"See something you like, kitten?" You jerked out of your daze and looked at his amused face. "I know I do."

You decided to be bratty. "Nope, nothing too impressive for me to see." You smiled sweetly as you deposited his drink on the table in front of him.

He licked his lips slowly, "God, if you were mine..." He trailed off, eyes narrowed on yours. Your mouth dried as the image of the two of you in a dark bedroom flashed into your mind. You sprawled out across his lap, his hands smacking your ass, your underwear pulled to the side…

“Yeah, you get the picture,” Your neighbor’s crooked smirk was downright obscene as his eyes flashed to your lips briefly. “I’ll see you later tonight, kitten. You know, when I come knocking at your door.”

With that parting remark, he stood, raised his americano in your direction, and strutted out the door.

You stood rooted to the spot, gaping after him for god knows how long.

“She’s gotta move at some point,” Cal’s voice vaguely sounded from the side of you.

“I don’t know,” Jess’ response sounded from your other side, “I once saw her stare out at a speck of dust for like fifteen minutes straight.”

That got you. “It was not fifteen minutes!” You defended yourself, “And it’s not my fault that I happened to be writing a coffeehouse AU at that time!”

Your friends cackled as you stomped back behind the counter.

Your friends were evil, and so was your neighbor, of that you were certain.

And you were so, so, so fucked.

Hours later, you were still thinking about your fucking neighbor. Why were you only meeting him now? Why was his hair always changing colors? Why did he fuck with you so much? Why did you like it?

All of these questions bounced around your brain as you entered your building, your eyes seeking out the boy instinctively. But, as before, he was nowhere to be seen.

You shuffled over to the ancient elevator and punched the 'Up' button a few more times than necessary. Something must be wrong with you. You were way too infatuated with your way too infuriating neighbor.

The elevator doors parted, and you automatically sighed in relief and disappointment as you entered the empty space. Pushing the button to your floor, you waited for the doors to close.

“Wait!”

A shudder trailed down your spine as you watched the doors re-open to let the subject of your thoughts onto the lift. He was wearing yet another outfit that was different from earlier - a white tank top with loose pants adorned with decorative zippers.

And was that a fucking tattoo?

There was no way you had missed that in your previous encounters. He must have felt your piercing stare because his eyes flashed over to yours. “See something you like?”

“You have a tattoo!” You blurted out.

“Um, yeah, I do. Nice observation,” Your neighbor looked at you weirdly. “Aren’t you going to ask what floor I need?”

“You and your fucking jokes,” You rolled your eyes at him.

The boy’s eyebrows shot up, and he looked at you intently, “Ah, so you’re kitten.”

Your insides into jelly, and you decided the safest tactic would now be to ignore him.

“Now, now, kitten,” He crowded your space, backing you up against the elevator wall, “It’s impolite to ignore your neighbor.”

“Well, it’s against the commandments to covet your neighbor, isn’t it?” You sniffed, pretending to not be affected by his sheer size and dangerous aura. The tattoo curling up his neck demanded your attention, and you only wished you could pay your respects with your tongue.

“I’m pretty sure they said something about coveting a neighbor’s wife… you’re not married are you, kitten? Got a boyfriend, girlfriend or partner that we don’t know about?” His breath mingled with your own, his lips so close to your own.

Wait, we?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the elevator’s arrival at your floor. Ducking under his corded arms, you scurried out of the elevator and down the hall towards your apartment.

Of course, he lazily trailed after you.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” You shot over your shoulder at him as you neared your door. “We just met like two days ago.”

His grin turned feral, “Yes, kitten, of course we did. Hey, why don’t you come over for a drink? You’re right; we don’t really know each other. Let’s change that.”

You weighed your options. Hanging out with him could drive you absolutely crazy or it could lead to something you previously could only write about.

He lounged against the wall next to your door in await of your answer. He raised a hand to brush his hair out of his eyes, and your eyes caught a sudden flash of silver. Was that an honest to god nipple piercing you just saw?

All rational exited the building. “Sure, but only for a little bit. Let me just change real quick.”

“Great, kitten,” His eyes flared, “Wear something comfortable. Just knock when you’re ready.”

You just nodded mutely as you entered your apartment and then shut the door. What the fuck were you getting yourself into?

After ten panicked minutes of you running around your apartment in search of ‘comfortable’ clothes, you were poised to knock on your still nameless neighbor’s door. You glanced down at your cropped t-shirt, leggings and running shoes. It would do. Besides, you had your lucky lingerie on underneath just in case.

Before you could even knock, the door flew open. “I was beginning to worry you were just going to stand there all night, kitten.” Your neighbor pouts, “And then we wouldn’t get to have any fun.”

You rolled your eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to invite me inside?”

His lips twitched, “How vampiresque of you, (y/n).”

You smiled broadly, “If I was a vampire, I would definitely have killed you already. You’re really fucking annoying.”

He stared at you for a split second before throwing his head back and laughing. The amount of neck that was in your face was heavenly; and, suddenly, you questioned whether vampires actually had it right this whole time.

“Well, kitten. I’m Taehyung. Please, do come in,” He opened the door wider, still chuckling lowly, “Would you like anything to drink? I think we have wine and maybe some beer hiding in the fridge somewhere.”

There was that pesky ‘we’ again.

“Red wine sounds good, thank you,” You said, plopping yourself down on one of the deep wooden barstools lining the marble kitchen island. You watched as he poured two glasses and handed one to you. Just as you were about to ask if he had roommates, Taehyung held up his glass.

“Cheers to being very friendly neighbors,” He said, sitting in the stool next to yours and staring intently at you.

“Cheers,” You echoed, clinking your glasses together and then taking a sip. Your eyes widened both from the sight of Taehyung drinking – his throat tipped back, his eyes dark on yours – and the deliciousness of the wine. It was an intense ruby red pinot noir that somehow tasted of fruit and of smokey spice all at once. It was honestly so fucking good that you just knew it had to be exorbitantly expensive. You licked your lips, making sure not to miss a single drop.

Taehyung’s eyes latched onto the movement. “You know,” He murmured, “They say if you hold eye contact while toasting, you’ll keep having good sex.”

You almost spat out your second sip of wine. Just as you were about to risk it all and say you would actually have to start having sex for that to happen, a crashing sound echoed from the dark hallway to your left.

“Shit,” Taehyung cursed, glaring in the direction the sound had come from, “I need to go and check what that was. Are you all right out here for a minute?”

You shrugged and nodded, swirling your wine around your glass.

“Be right back,” Taehyung brushed his hand over your cheek for a split second before stalking down the hallway in search of whatever had caused the ruckus.

Your hand flew to your now-warm cheek. Fuck, were you really crushing on your cute neighbor with the mood-swings?

Ugh, you were.

You glanced speculatively around his apartment. It was so much nicer than yours… The minimalist but chic decor just screamed rich vibes. However, there were a few oddities that made you frown. Four sets of keys hung by the front door. Four sets of shoes were lined up in the foyer. Four different color coded markings were on the calendar pinned to the wall.

Four different versions of Taehyung smiled back at you from a photo stuck to the fridge.

“Hello again, kitten,” The low voice startled you from your internal panic. Reluctantly turning to face them, you cursed your own stupidity. The blonde version of Taehyung that you met a few days ago grinned back at you.

“Fucking brothers,�� You moaned, slouching over on the kitchen island and placing your head in your hands, “You’re all fucking brothers.”

“Quadruplets, actually,” He unhelpfully added, “I’m V. You’re (y/n), right?”

“Were you all just eavesdropping on me and Taehyung, or what?” You knew your were being petty right now, but you felt blindsided by your own lack of awareness and the brothers’ obvious lack of tact.

“Kind of,” Blue-haired Taehyung exited the hallway, “Sorry, (y/n).”

It was honestly unfair how sweet Blue was. “It’s okay. What’s your name?”

“Vante,” He waved at you and grinned, “See? I can finally wave back now!”

If you could turn into a human version of ‘uwu’, you would have done so right then and there.

“Stop flirting with her, Vante,” Coffee-shop Taehyung enters the kitchen followed closely by the actual Taehyung, “Let me introduce myself, kitten. I…” He gripped your hand and brought it to his lips, “Am Hansung.” His lips brushed over your knuckles as the words poured out of his mouth.

You blinked at him as it clicked, “Oh, so you’re the Han that wouldn’t get off his ass!”

Hansung choked, dropping your hand as his brothers cried with laughter. “Who said that?” He rounded on his brothers, “Who?”

Vante shot you a desperate look; and, since you had already internally declared him your favorite, you kept the information to yourself. “I don’t see how that matters when you all clearly have been keeping me in the dark about the fact that there are four of you.”

“I mean,” Taehyung began, “Technically we didn’t not tell you. You just never asked.”

Your blood boiled, “And how the fuck would I know to ask? Should I have consulted a psychic? Scoured the census data? Kept tabs on the entire population of quadruplets nationwide?”

You stared down each of the boys. Vante and Hansung at least looked a tad sheepish, but Taehyung and V just looked amused.

“You were right,” Taehyung nudged V, “She is feisty.”

You contemplated your options: 1) Kill V and bury the body deep in the nearby woods, 2) Dramatically exit the apartment and never speak to these demonspawn ever again, or 3) Chug this miraculous tasting wine.

You chose option three.

No regrets.

Looking at each of them, you felt like you could be the stock image for the word ‘shooketh’. Fuck, you had thought it was overwhelming when there was just one of them in your mind. But, now? You were in full panic mode over the sheer amount of masculinity and identical good looks that surrounded you.

“You know what?” You said after draining your glass, “I really don’t like being made to look like a fool. And that’s what you all did to me this whole week.” You saw Vante open his mouth, and you cut him off, “Some more than others… but, still, you knew where I lived. You could have just introduced yourself separately.”

You stood, glancing over the boys’ varying degrees of pouts and sighing. “Yeah, I’m out of here.”

Making your way over to the door, you were suddenly cut off by V. He leaned heavily against the door, successfully blocking your smooth exit.

“V, move.”

“No, you need to hear us out, kitten,” He murmured, looking down at you with an intense expression you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “Could you do that for us?”

You spared a glance over your shoulder, and sure enough, the other three were right there. Vante stared at you pleadingly. Hansung shot you a wink. Taehyung snapped his gaze up to yours… Had he been checking out your ass?

Deciding not to pay them any mind, you turned back around to face V and shrugged, “Fine, two minutes.”

“Good girl.”

A shiver coursed down your spine. You didn’t even know which brother behind you muttered those two words, and, yet, perhaps that made it all the more thrilling.

V shot a glare over your head and then refocused on you. “Kitten, we’re sorry. We just really like to tease, and you made it so easy.” Seeing your glare, he continued, “We didn’t mean to make you upset. That wasn’t our intention at all… it was the complete opposite, actually.”

Taehyung moved in front of you, next to V. “Why don’t we start over? Come over for dinner tomorrow night at eight. We’ll have a proper introduction to our neighborly relationship.”

You mulled it over in your mind. Embarrassment warred with infatuation. Worst case scenarios clashed with the best of cases. Images of a dark bedroom with multiple partners contrasted with words typed on a laptop screen.

Finally, as the seconds ticked by, you decided to ask yourself: ‘What would your characters do?’

They would fuck them all.

“Okay,” You sighed, eyeing the two boys in front of you and then the two behind, “But you better make something edible.”

“Challenge accepted,” V’s eyes glinted wickedly.

“It wasn’t even––” You cut yourself off. Though you only had met V twice thus far, you knew it was virtually impossible to make him back down from anything he perceived as a dare. “You know what? Sure, it’s a challenge. I’ll be the Gordon Ramsey; you’ll be the crying contestants.”

A stifled giggle sounds from behind you that you suspect belonged to Vante.

“That mouth…” Taehyung muttered. His tongue swiped along his lower lip as he stared you down.

Suddenly, Hansung popped out from behind you and shoved his two brothers out of the way of the door. “Allow me, kitten,” He swung it open in a flourish, bowing as he cleared your way out. Your lips twitched. That boy was so extra.

“Thank you, Han,” You smiled and waved as you exited their apartment, “I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow night…” Walking the short distance across the hall to your own apartment, you unlock your door, step inside, and then turn back to see if they were still there.

They were.

All four of them peered back at you from their doorway. “Shoo!” You laughed, waving them away before slamming your door shut.

You were so, so, so, so fucked.

Four’s hands ghosted over your skin, caressing the dips of your curves. You shuddered as Three’s tongue slides across your pussy.

“You like that, kitten?” One asks, as he watches from the armchair in the corner of the room, “You like my brothers ruining you?” You weren’t fooled by his lack of participation; you knew One pulled the strings. “Answer me.”

“Yes, daddy,” You moan out as Two sucks one of your nipples in his mouth and asoidfjgioykl—

The ringing of your doorbell caused you to key-smash in panic. “Coming!” You called out, flustered over the interruption and over the filth you just wrote about your neighbors.

You padded over to the door and peered out the peep-hole. It was Hansung. Your breath caught in your throat as you try to push the vivid scenes you just wrote out of your mind.

Pulling open the door, you greeted him with a smile, “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hi…” Hansung trailed off, his eyes roving over your body. You glanced down at your typical loungewear - an oversized t-shirt and sleep shorts. Nothing too out of the ordinary. “Do you have any sugar?”

You stared at him with a deadpan expression, “Are you serious?”

“I don’t joke about sweets, kitten,” Hansung grinned, running a hand through his messy head of hair. You would have to add a scene to your story about pulling on it… “There’s that look,” he shook his head amusedly, “When will you ever let us know some of those thoughts?”

“Never,” You vowed and stepped aside so that he could enter your apartment, “Come on in. I’m pretty sure I have sugar somewhere. Sorry for the mess.” You wandered over to the kitchen area adjacent to your living room. Hansung was assessing your apartment with a critical eye, and you decided you needed to make this fast before he uncovered any dirty secrets.

Pulling open your baking cabinet, you scoured the shelves looking for that pesky ingredient. Flour, vanilla extract, chocolate chips…

“How is it that four boys don’t have any sugar?” You complained, leaning up to snag your bag of sugar from the very top shelf.

“We ask ourselves that all the damn time,” You knew Hansung was smirking even without seeing him, “We’re getting some now though… and later.”

“Well, good,” You turned to face him, “You better stock up so you don’t come bothering me every time you need some.”

He laughed, “Oh, (y/n), we’ll always want more.”

Rolling your eyes, you shoved the bag of sugar to his chest and pushed him towards the door to your apartment. “Out you go!”

“Oh kitten, I always knew you were sweet on me,” Hansung grinned widely as he stared down at the sugar you had pushed against his chest.

“Fuck off,” You groaned, letting out a slight chuckle despite yourself. “Now, go away and cook me a nice dinner. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye-e-e kitten,” he sang as he paraded back across the hall, “Wear something sexy for me.” With a wink, Hansung disappeared back into his shared apartment.

You groaned, slamming your door shut before sliding down it onto the floor. These brothers might be the death of you. Glancing up, your eyes settled on your laptop. Had it always been in that position? Was that how you left it?

Standing up, you walked over to where your laptop resides on your coffee table and closed it. You had a dinner to get ready for, after all. You didn’t have time to return to your story.

Alas, you really should have made time; because, little did you know, the open document on your screen had a new addition courtesy of Hansung… “That’s hot. Which number am I?”

It was 7:59PM; you were pacing inside your apartment.

You contemplated cancelling for the hundredth time that evening. But, momma didn’t raise no bitch.

With that in mind, you assessed yourself in the foyer mirror. The black midi-dress wrapped around your body like armor. The wings of your eyeliner flicked out like battle knives. The redness of your lipstick warned of the biting tongue that lie within.

Yeah, you looked ready for war, and it was perfect.

With that in mind, you trudged across the hall and knocked on their door before you could talk yourself out of it.

The door opened to reveal V in all his glory. His blonde hair was tousled, his eyes were dark. He looked at you as if he knew all of your secrets.

You bit your lip, “Um, hi?”

A slow smile crossed his face, “Hi, kitten. Please come in.”

You moved past him to enter into the apartment. Taehyung appeared and greeted you with a grin. “Hey, (y/n),” He purred, running a hand down your arm, “Glad you could make it.”

God, what was up? The tension in the room was palpable. You walked over towards where Hansung and Vante were plating dinner in the kitchen.

“Hi,” You greeted them. Vante jumped two feet in the air as Hansung smirked at you.

You cocked your head. Moving your eyes from one brother to the next, you caved, “Okay, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean, (y/n)?” V moved closer to you, “Is this not going as you wrote it?”

You stopped breathing. No, there was no way… but, your laptop had seemed to be moved. You shot Hansung a look in askance.

He grinned sheepishly, and it told you everything you needed to know.

“Fuck,” You turned away from them, “I’m so sorry. This is so embarrassing. I’ll leave.”

“Who’s One?” V’s question cut through your rambled apology.

“What?” You blinked, turning to look at him.

“Who is One, kitten? Is it me?” V moved right in front of you. You gulped. He smiled. “I thought so.”

“You see, (y/n)-kitten,” He continued, “You were right. My brothers and I? We’re a unit. We do everything together. We live together, we date together, we fuck together.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words.

“We just want one girl to keep us all together, kitten… to be ours.” V murmured, twisting a lock of your hair between his fingers, “That’s what we’ve been searching for for so long.”

You finally found words at last, “And you think that girl is me?”

“We know it’s you,” Vante said, shyly approaching you, “And we’re going to show you why.”

He kissed you. You almost laughed over how cute, shy Vante was the first brother to kiss you. His kiss was gentle, but insistent in its movements. It was like he was pleading you to let him in both your mouth and your heart.

You crumbled. Your hands fisted his shirt and tugged him closer. His kiss ignited something in you that made you want more.

Your tongue darted out to run along the seam of his lips. Vante gasped, and your tongue slid inside.

As you continue to kiss him, someone moved behind you, his lips ghosted over your neck.

“Mm, baby,” Taehyung whispered against the nape of your neck, “You’re so beautiful.”

Taehyung ran his hands over your hips and tugged your ass flush with his crotch. You moaned into Vante’s mouth. Vante took advantage of your dazed state to slide his tongue against yours in a way that was so deliciously dirty.

Suddenly, Vante backed up, and V took his place before you.

His hands slid up your body, grazing the sides of your breasts before settling back down at the top of your waist.

He kissed you deeply, differently than Vante. The slight roughness of his touch was new, and it seemed to declare ownership over you.

V’s tongue twined with yours, playing with you. From behind you, Taehyung continued to slowly grind into you.

Your body felt so overheated, so overwhelmed.

Pulling back from your mouth, V glanced over your shoulder, and Taehyung slipped away from you.

V focused back on you. “I don’t think you understand what you do to us. God, this dress. Did you wear it to tease us, kitten? We’ve been wanting to unwrap you, to strip you down, since you walked through our door.”

V fiddled with the bow keeping your dress fastened.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you said, “Well, do it then.”

His hand froze. His eyes flicked up to yours. “You’re sure, (y/n)? You know what you’re asking for? You know what we’ll give you?”

You glanced around. Vante looked at you with a hopeful expression. Hansung wore a smirk, already working on undoing the buttons of his shirt. Taehyung full-on grinned at you with dark eyes full of wicked intent and promise.

“Yes.”

As soon as the word left your lips, the mood shifted. V nodded at Vante, who scurried out of the room. You opened your mouth to question his departure, but V cut you off.

“Now, kitten, I know you’ve imagined this - wrote this; but, you’re not the one in charge here. We are.”

He led you down the hall and into what must have been his own bedroom. The king size bed dominated the room. Paintings decorated the walls… Was that a real Degas?

Vante entered the room, holding what looked like long scraps of silk.

“Finally,” Hansung grumbled, and then turned to you, “Strip.”

Your hands shook as you reached down to the tie at your waist and pulled. Your dress, your armor, fell to the ground in a whoosh. You stood in just your underwear, having forgone a bra that evening.

“Goddamn,” V growled, “Such a good little slut coming to our place without a bra.”

His filthy words slid over your body like a caress and settled deep in your core. You pushed your thighs together. The movement was not lost on the brothers.

“Vante.”

At V’s call, Vante reached out and took your hand. Leading you over to the bed, he gestured for you to lay down. “We want to tie you up, kitten. Is that okay? If not, we can have fun in other ways.”

“T-that’s okay,” You swallowed hard, “I like bondage.”

“I knew it!” Hansung cheered from the left foot of the bed.

“Shut up, Han,” Vante shot over his shoulder as he focused on tying your wrists behind your head. Refocusing on you, he mumbled, “How does that feel, baby? Too tight? Too loose?”

“Just right,” You sighed, almost moaning at how hot you felt getting tied down by one man while three others watched.

Taehyung sat down at your side, his pointer finger began drawing light circles across your stomach. “Can Hansung take your panties off, kitten?”

Nodding, you looked down as Hansung leaned over you, hands briefly squeezing your hips before tugging your underwear down your thighs. Almost on reflex, you squeezed your legs together again, craving any sort of friction.

“Open your legs,” V ordered from his stance against the wall by the foot of the bed, “Show us how wet you are.”

You listened, hyper-aware of how your wetness was surely obvious. Taehyung’s fingers suddenly pinched your nipple, rolling the puckered bud between his fingers. A small moan escaped you.

“Fuck,” someone cursed. Hansung, you guessed. “She’s so pretty.”

“How wet is she?” Taehyung asked, the only brother not openly ogling your wet pussy.

“Dripping,” Vante murmurs, tongue wetting his lips.

Your eyes locked with V’s as he stared you down. “Now, kitten, do you want Vante to lick your pussy? Or Hansung?”

Both boys in question stared at you with wistful expressions. You knew your answer though. It was not an option he had given. And it was your lack of answer that tipped V off.

“Ah, I see,” V laughed. “Well, that’ll be a new one for us.”

Hansung shot V a confused look, “What?”

“She wants both of your mouths,” V smirked at your immediate blush, “What? Am I wrong, baby?”

“…No,” You pouted.

Vante’s eyebrows furrowed, “Both of us? Like at one time? Or one after the other?”

All eyes were on you once more as you squirmed under the weight of their attention and Taehyung’s continued worship of your nipples with his fingers.

“Either?” You were losing your train of thought under the building pleasure. Could you actually come from just nipple play?

“Mm,” V hummed, “Our little kitten is being indecisive. Vante?”

Again, Vante hastened to fulfill V’s unspoken command. You wondered how many times the brothers had done this together, because they were really fucking in sync.

“Are you good with being blindfolded, too, kitten?” Vante asked, kissing your cheek lightly. You nodded and lifted your head up slightly so he could tie the soft silk around your head.

Darkness consumed you. Your senses heightened. A breath coasted over your wetness and you shuddered.

A light kiss pressed over your folds followed by a tentative swipe of a tongue. “Damn, she tastes fucking amazing,” Hansung groaned, completely giving himself away.

“Shut up and make her come, Han. Or I’ll let Vante take your place.” V’s voice came from closer by you now. Was he right next to you? Was he at your feet?

His lips felt so soft as he dragged them over your pussy to finally suck your clit in between them. His tongue slid and flicked perfectly against your clit.

The small ministrations of his tongue against your clit set your arousal ablaze. You shifted your hips up in hopes he will lick harder, but a firm hand pushed you back down.

“No, no, kitten,” V’s voice sounded in your ear, “You’ll get what we give you.”

Hansung continued to stroke his tongue between your legs. Finally, by the grace of the gods, he pushed a finger inside you and hissed, “Fuck, she’s so tight.”

You clenched down around his finger at his words, and he moaned. “She was fucking made for us.”

As Han returned to worship your pussy, another tongue flicked at your nipple. Was that Vante? Taehyung?

Honestly, not knowing was high-key hot. You were hurtling towards your orgasm as one brother ate your pussy, another worshipped your breasts, and two more watched.

The feeling of having so much attention on you, on your pleasure, on your body, set you off. You came with an embarrassingly loud moan.

Lips brushed your ear as V murmured, “You’re so sexy when you come, kitten. I bet you’ll look even better when you come all over my cock.”

A whine escaped you as he teased you, licking your neck, teeth scraping over it. The afterglow of your orgasm quickly turned into the aching need for more.

And then your stomach let out an insanely loud growl.

The room quieted. A chuckle escaped someone. Then, laughs echoed around the bedroom.

“Well, someone needs to be fed,” V’s smile was apparent as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

The blindfold slipped from around your head and you blinked up at V as he untied your wrists. “Come on, baby, we can reheat dinner.”

“But–” You pouted as V placed a finger to your lips.

“We can get back to that after. We’re not even close to being done with you, kitten.”

“I don’t think we ever will,” Taehyung grinned at you as he tugged you up from the bed.

“Here you go, (y/n),” Vante handed you Han’s discarded button down.

“Thank you,” You blushed at his cuteness. Pausing, you scoured the ground for your panties.

Thwack.

Your ass stung as V’s hand massaged over the area he just smacked.

“They’re mine. Don’t bother,” His grin was feral as he squeezed your ass and then led you out of the room towards the kitchen.

As you both joined the others in the kitchen, you took the plate that Han offered you. Surveying the room, you took in your varying states of undress as you all stood around the kitchen island eating your reheated dinners.

Damn, you could get used to this… Taehyung caught your eye and shot you a wink.

Yeah, you were so fucked… but, so were they.

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.